Roommates
by kikanjuu
Summary: Diarmuid x Arturia Multi-chapter AU featuring other characters from F/GO! It was luck meeting the first time, the second time it was fate. They were two people with passion in their hearts striving to become their best selves in spite of what they lost in the concrete jungle. The unlikely rainy evening brings them to each other, and together, once again, they begin to move forward.
1. Chapter One: Lucky

**Chapter One: Lucky**

Today was not Saber's day.

The gentle autumn breeze Saber's blew golden locks airborne tickling her pink cheeks as she surveyed the view around her. The plane trees rustled, their remaining rusty brown and scarlet leaves dancing an awkward tango with the chilly tailwind. Skyscraper facades mirrored the evening sun, a rather unpleasant reflection of orange light that blinded Saber as she descended the marble steps leading up to Grail Mall, the largest high-end mall in the city. On ground level, people milled about the cracked pavement, some mobile some not, but they all had a destination in mind. Such a beautiful day, yet Saber could only sigh in relief that it was ending.

It was just supposed to be another ordinary day at her job working as an ordinary security guard at Grail Mall, but society wanted otherwise. Three coworkers had called in sick, effectively leaving Saber to train the substitutes, alone. Berserker was also there, but he is not really one for formalities such as commandeering or any communication for that matter, but that was not all. There also just _happened_ be an attempted robbery at Tohsaka & Co. jewelers. Two men in black tried to steal the jewels on display and in the back vault. Luckily, Berserker happened to be on scene and was able to apprehend the robbers, but Saber was soon summoned by the police to restrain her coworker from "accidentally" killing the culprits through excessive force. Though it was often that she would be called to stop the Berserker from getting out of hand, she had her _experienced_ coworkers to help. With only some beginner trainees at her aide, involving them would only result in more casualties, but that was not the true reason for her troubles. The real reason was the paperwork that she had to fill out afterwards.

In short, it meant overtime.

Saber rubbed her emerald eyes and sleepily began meandering, it wasn't like she had anything better to do. Maybe she'd get an ice cream cone, or buy a new pair of shoes, anything goes from the hours of seven to eleven. Just as long as she could catch the last train back to Midtown, Saber was fine.

She didn't want to go back to Morgana's. Even though she has only lived in her sister's luxurious penthouse for a month after her old apartment was torn down, she was fed up. Morgana's offer to house her seemed almost too good to be real, but Saber would rather have a roof over her head rather than think about the fine print, but settling in soon revealed the truth. The price she paid for her carelessness led her to a fate no better than being homeless. Her sister's promiscuous behavior and endless partying kept Saber up so often, she could no longer remember the last time she had a good night's sleep. She had been looking around housing sites to find a new apartment of her own, but all leads have so far turned up empty. Though she knew living in the city is expensive, she never expected it to be _this_ expensive. The only hope she had left was her application at a popular share-house some forty minutes from work by subway. It was a bit far, but the rent was somewhat affordable and rooms fully furnished. She stayed up all night refreshing her computer browser when Camlann Share House announced the applications opened again and filled it out as fast as she possibly could when it was; it was undoubtable that she would get the spot.

Saber pulled out her cell phone from her royal blue cross-body, a gift she received from Ector before she left the countryside. Her housing application should have been reviewed already, today Saber just needed to call to find out the final verdict and hopefully begin packing her things once she arrived home. Saber dialed their number and pressed the phone to her ear, praying for some good news to brighten this terrible day.

"This is Camlann Share House" a smooth female voice cut off the repetitive ringing.

"My name is Arturia Pendragon. I have called to ask about my application regarding a room at your establishment." Crossing her fingers, Saber hoped for good news as the receiver told her to hold as she checked their system.

"Hello Ms. Pendragon, I have here the results of your application. Unfortunately, we did not accept your application." Her heart dropped,

"On what grounds? Why?"

"Ms. Pendragon, we are a very sought-after establishment, there were simply too many applicants."

"That's literally impossible! I applied the second the application opened!" the loud shouting startled some passing salarymen, but Saber ignored them, eyes widening in frustration.

"I'm very sorry Ms. Pendragon, but we are in high demand. Your application was simply submitted too late. You may try again in the summer when our applications open again." The voice was completely immune to Saber's growing frustration, it was like talking to a robot.

"That's such bull, my application was submitted five MINUTES after it opened!"

"We're sorry, but there were several applicants who submitted theirs before you."

"Is there any other-" Saber paused for a second.

Pleading for other options would get her nowhere with this monotonous machine.

"Actually—never mind. Thanks for nothing." Saber promptly hung up with a huff, not bothering to hear the woman's response.

The blonde woman shut off her phone and tried to slip it back into the front pocket of her bag, but she missed the opening and her phone ended up dropping to the concrete sidewalk, screen first. Her heart dropped, once again, as she carefully picked up the phone to find the screen shattered, a branch-like crack from the left corner to the right corner of the black surface.

Saber clutched her phone tightly, kneading her fingers into its sides angrily,

"FUCK!" her sudden outburst startled an old woman sitting on a nearby bench who promptly gave her the dirty eye.

"Impudent youth!" the woman muttered as Saber stormed past her wrinkly figure.

Saber didn't care, she was tired, frustrated, and basically everything except content with her current life. Her job is severely underpaid for the work she does, she has to deal with her stupid sister's sexual tendencies and partying probably for the rest of her life, and now the most expensive item she owned now has a huge crack in it. Nothing was going well.

Saber walked a little further down the street to find the small park she frequented on her walks to the subway and found a seat on one of the many empty park benches scattered throughout. She set her bag down beside her after taking a seat on the closest bench. The smooth plywood worn down from years of wear creaked softly on its rusted iron hinges as she searched for a more comfortable position.

Saber pulled out her shattered phone and examined the exterior closely. Her hand ran over the jagged crack and she sighed,

"_If only I had spent another twenty for the glass protector I wouldn't be dealing with this mess." _

Luckily the volume and lock side buttons along with the front home button seemed to work fine, and there were no internal hardware problems from what Saber could tell. That was probably the highlight of her day, if it could even be called that.

She looked up at the darkening sky and noticed it had clouded over with an ominous gray, but she paid no mind to the change, she probably just cannot admire the moon this evening, that's all.

The jagged crack traced roughly on Saber's tender thumb as she rubbed the scar mindlessly. She thought of Kay's parting words on how the city life would be, but back then, Saber had this sense of invincibility that no one could pierce through. She was vivacious yet notorious, daughter of Ulther Pendragon, there was nothing she couldn't accomplish. Morgana's stories about her lavish life in the city only fueled young Arturia Pendragon's arrogance. She thought, "If my stupid sister can be rolling around town with a G-Wagon and Gucci, so can I!"

But, the city was ruthless, it made no distinction between the strong and weak, so at the ripe age of twenty, Arturia experienced reality for the first time. She realized Morgana's lavish life was one of deceit, living gigolo to gigolo, draining each one's finances with false promises of love and bodily affection. In the city, it wasn't easy to start the life of luxury with honesty, that was the first lesson learned. The second lesson learned was that starting a normal life in the city was not so simple either. It took Arturia two and a half months to find a steady job as a waitress in an English teahouse and was only able to scrape by, paycheck to paycheck, along with some rainy-day funds and tips left by lavishly dressed trophy wives, but overall the pay was not great so she could only afford an apartment in the shadier side of town.

She lived a peaceful year, at least until she met Irisviel von Einzbern, heiress of the Grail Conglomerate. Their encounter was sudden, Irisviel waltzing into the teahouse one sunny afternoon hoping for a cup of tea and scones and ended up with just that and more.

There was an air around her that made her stand out, but it was not just her appearance. Despite her being sheltered like the other heirs Saber has met in her stint at the teahouse, Irisviel was the most curious of them all. She was constantly seeking knowledge, asking questions; she wanted to expand her world and break free from the mold she was in.

It seemed Saber said something right that afternoon because Irisviel took great interest in her and ended up offering her a position in her group's private security company, Chaldea.

Saber hesitated at first, at first, she thought it to be a scam, but after hearing how much it paid compared to her current job at the time, she made no wasted move to join its forces.

Immediately after quitting her job as waitress she enlisted in the training program and graduated with top marks in a record six months. Then, it took her just three years to rise up and become eligible for the superior "Saber" position of seven total, others being Archer, Lancer, Rider, Caster, Assassin, and Berserker, by merit of course. She did everything from bouncing to overnight watch. If there was a job, Saber probably took it. Not only was she looking for a better paycheck, Saber wanted to prove her natural competence, to show that she was admitted through talent, not through a back door.

The lead security officer, Ritsuka Fujimaru, was nice enough. Her first impression of him was that he was rather wimpy and always relying on his secretary Mash Kyrelight for assistance, but after getting to know him better she found him much more endearing. Though not physically adept, Ritsuka was someone who showed their true talent, leadership, and competence in times of crisis, being part of a security agency meant every call to action was an emergency, and in turn where his abilities truly shined.

The problems she has with her current job is more or less her coworkers. One thing that Chaldea lacks is a code of action. Of course, there was general guidelines on how to manage a situation, but Ritsuka tends to gravitate towards a laissez-faire approach to behavior, where as long as the agents do not destroy the building, each other or the customers, there will be no disciplinary action. This has led to some very "creative" interpretations of what is considered destruction.

Just today, when Berserker was holding two grown men in a chokehold, when Ritsuka made it to the scene and questioned him, he let them flop onto the floor and said only a sentence in his defense:

"They're not customers, the building, or us." and promptly strode back to his position, flipping his long blue ponytail so smugly even Saber could imagine his expression from watching his backside.

Another incident, among others, that Saber found particularly memorable was during last year's Christmas sales event, one of the most crowded days of the year. The Chaldea agents on duty that day were tasked with crowd control, seemed simple enough. Stick to the procedure, that's it.

On that day, the Archer and Rider on duty apparently thought it was a good idea to "improve" the crowd control system by bringing in a lasso and two _very_ long chains respectively.

Four human pileups and one rope burn complaint later, it once again left Saber and her "leader" duties to fill out hours of paperwork.

She had thought about quitting on several occasions, but when she began writing her resignation letter she remembered Irisviel's kindness in pulling her out of her rut, something she did with her own good will, Saber could not bring herself to betray her.

It has been three years since she began working under Chaldea and four years since she moved to the city. Looking back, all four years were dedicated work. Four years of endless exhaustion, friction with her coworkers, and everything in-between. Saber couldn't remember the last time she went out for a fun night with friends, like how she used to with Gawain, Bedivere, and…

_Shaa…shaa…_

The rain came down suddenly, snapping Saber out of nostalgia and drenching her pressed black suit and covering her bargain bin dress shoes in a layer of shiny water droplets.

She sprung up from her seat, "Are you serious?!"

The weather forecast did not say it would rain, so Saber did not bother bringing an umbrella, not that she would have if it did anyways, and she could only use her cross-body as a shield. She stuffed her phone back in her bag and held it over her head as she began sprinting for the subway. It was not far from the park, but the heavy rain made the sidewalk far too slippery for rapid movement so she was quickly reduced to a light jog.

She got to the intersection between Main and 5th street and waited for the pedestrian light to turn green.

"_Almost there…",_

The color changed and Saber immediately dashed forward. She rounded the corner while being careful to duck under rainbow hordes of umbrellas.

The rain began to fall harder, so hard to the point where Saber had no choice but to seek shelter until the rain died down. The skimpy trees in the park before were not an option so the only other option was to find a hospitable building like a restaurant or a shop. She was getting hungry anyways so the timing was just perfect. There were no good places near Morgana's so maybe she could stop at the Starbucks in front of the station, pick up a latte and a sandwich for dinner while waiting for the rain before she went back; yes, that sounded like a great idea!

_Sounded_ like a good idea, with emphasis on the hypothetical nature.

That plan quickly went out the window when Saber saw just how crowded the small shop had become, the entire ordering kiosk completely obscured by people seeking refuge from the downpour. She looked around to find another café or restaurant, but it was mostly one office building after another, a bit ironic because in most cases, areas around subway stations are always fragranced with the various scents wafting from all the food offered nearby.

At this point, Saber's bag and clothing were completely soaked so she was getting desperate. She left Starbucks and rounded another corner past the subway stop and ran to the left to see if she could find any place with food, and hopefully a towel.

This time, she was in luck. Past several glossy office towers, she saw an amber glow and a whiff of cooking smoke and quickly skittered over to see what it was, not that she cared, she'd take it even if it was a host club. All she wanted was to be dry and full; expecting any more would inevitably lead to greater disaster, as Saber had learned from today.

"_Volumen…",_ Saber read its large signboard above its entrance.

According to the smaller print on the board, it was an Irish Pub. A rather strange name for an Irish pub and it made Saber curious as to the origins of the name. The one-story building itself was comfortably wedged in between two glassy high-rises making it stand out more. A pure white brick façade contrasted with the jet-black frames lining the square Plexiglas windows. A little flowerpot sat by the mahogany double doors situated comfortably under a slanted awning, the planted sunflower jerked and swayed against the rain. Saber could hear a distant sound of laughter coming from beyond the threshold, it seemed like a warm, lively place, it was a shame she had not found it earlier, but nonetheless she was happy she had found it today.

Yes, in that moment, despite all that happened before, Saber felt very lucky.

She grasped the black cast-iron door handle and was about to pull the door, but stopped herself when she realized her drenched clothing and matted hair were in no proper presentation for a restaurant. Saber released the handles and moved her hands to her suit and began squeezing as much water out of them as she could. The blazer shook out dribbles of water droplets and mist. Her hair was wrung out and "dried" using her hands as her shoes squished and squeaked in discomfort.

Even after all that she was still incredibly wet, and Saber decided the best thing to do was to stand outside a bit longer to dry off, at least until she no longer dripped. Time passed and the rain finally began to die down and Saber deemed the rain small enough to rush home on the last train. It was a shame she could not spend time in Volumen, but now that she knew where it was, she can stop by for a quick meal after work anytime she wanted.

The doors behind her swung open with a loud creak, startling her. She turned around to see a tall man about her age wearing a marsh green t-shirt, black jeans, and a half-length apron, clearly one of the workers at this establishment. He had vibrant amber eyes that drew focus to his mole under his eye and dark, curly hair pushed back with a narrow green headband, with a small chunk still hanging in his face. The amount of green he wore kind of reminded her of a leprechaun, except tall, handsome, and real.

Immediately, he took notice of Saber's form and walked over to greet her with a calm smile. Along the way, he picked up the chalkboard stand advertising the day's specials at the entrance.

"Miss, are you alright? Won't you come in?"


	2. Chapter Two: Honey

"Master! Another round of booze!"

"Could I get a Mudslide? Extra cream and ice!"

"HEY! Pretty boy! Pour us a round of your best whiskey, on me!"

In the past couple weeks or so, Diarmuid had come to love the cacophonous roar that accompanied Volumen's full bar. He worked swiftly and smoothly, with a shake of the beverage shaker or a drip of spouted glass bottles, he served each patron's drinks with the smile many women (and some men) unfortunately loved.

No matter where he went, the feeling of alcohol and people drinking was intoxicating. Life's forbidden fruit, something that was never to be touched yet it was. Even within the chaos of inebriation, there was an undeniable pleasure within.

Diarmuid himself enjoyed a good drink or two, or three, but he could not even see any remote appeal in drowning oneself in what was essentially antiseptic.

Until of course he did it himself.

Diarmuid still remembered that morning.

He recalled hearing his alarm at the usual seven am playing the usual radar sound stirred him from slumber as he did his usual morning stretches. The sun seemed brighter than usual, but aside from that, it was a rather ordinary Saturday morning. Gráinne was beside him, still fast asleep, curled loosely under the sheets, seemingly unaware of the shrill alarm, just like usual. He smiled gently and ruffled her honey locks gently. She stirred with his gentle touch and her hazel eyes flickered open.

"_Ah, good morning Dia. Today is a good day, isn't it?" _

Rain or shine, first thing in the morning, that was something she always said. There was always a sense of harmony and consistency, something Diarmuid valued to spite his tumultuous past.

Everything was peaceful, quiet, ordinary. He could have never imagined that would ever change.

It was only days later that Cú would stroll into Diarmuid's apartment to pick him up for some food truck crusading and movies and found him splayed on the cushy tan sofa cuddling with a half-empty bottle of Smirnoff, half delirious and cold as he carelessly played with the other four empty glass bottles rolling around the eggshell rug.

What was intended to be a night of festivities turned into an emergency with Cú hauling his friend's six-foot stature down three flights of stairs and to the nearest hospital where he could be treated for alcohol poisoning.

It took an IV drip, two night's rest, and plenty of time to his sober self that Diarmuid was clear minded enough to finally explain to Cú what had happened.

Gráinne was gone, vanished; disappeared; escaped.

Like a beautiful demon, she left as quickly as she had come into Diarmuid's life leaving only what she believed he needed.

No message, no call, no trace of her dainty figure was left in his apartment when he came home from work that fateful night. Only a short note was left behind:

"I am sorry. Thank you." It said in her loopy handwriting.

She left all her material possessions save for her clothing and some toiletries. Her phone was placed on the edge of the dining table, with no signs of battery life. The Manuka honey she would always have for breakfast sat in the wooden cupboard in the kitchen, patiently waiting to be opened and let its pungent odor into the air, the Queen CDs she and Diarmuid loved listening to were left untouched on their special shelf below the television, and most painful of all was the silver necklace he had gotten her for their third anniversary draped onto the note with the chain bunched together and looped into a neat and tidy knot. The silver star pendant was spotless, there was no streaking or signs of oxidization, a sign that the necklace was very well cared for.

All that was left behind only confused Diarmuid further. He had no idea if he was left her belongings in spite or in shame. She dragged him into a relationship founded on rocky soil, but he made it work; they made it work for five years.

Did she get cold feet and go running back to Fionn? Did she find someone else? Where did she go? What was their relationship to her? Where is she going now? Questions continued to form in Diarmuid's mind as he wondered why.

The placid days he shared with her for five years were undoubtedly genuine. It was not just because he felt happy then, but more because those days were filled with a harmonic predictability that his life seemed to lack. A sensation he had never experienced, he became addicted.

Gráinne leaving was simply his punishment for being too attached. Her free-spirited ways were too caged by Diarmuid's rigid ideals.

In the end, with nothing else to turn back on, he drowned himself in self-blame and vodka. After one bottle, he felt a little lighter, he liked this feeling so down went another and another.

Just as ships are the carriers of dreams, liquor is the messenger of one's hope. For some, they wish to be taken far away, to sail forever into the finite unknown of their fantasy. The empty glasses simply watch, they are the messages left behind when traversing the boundary between earthly existence and the heavenly shores. The magic of alcohol is omnipotent, yet it refuses to bless us all.

He remembered his best friend, the cheery Cú Chulainn, infallible to hardship and just about anything else, with a worried voice calling for him to awaken.

It was the first time he had heard his friend so panicked, yet he found himself unable to do anything, his limbs numb and head pounding. His hand reached out to the shouting figure, but it fell just short of bodily contact and finally all went black.

The first sensation he felt upon awakening was a punch. A sharp and clean hit that left a visible ruby tinted patch on his otherwise unscathed cheek.

The second, a warm embrace packed with a lot of muscle. Diarmuid took a second to register the giver was his blue-haired best friend. He returned the hug, but not without uttering a quiet "sorry" into Cú's jacketed shoulder.

It was easy enough to explain the entire ordeal of Gráinne leaving and the whole downward spiral to hell to Cú; he kind of owed him one after the whole "saving his life just in time" thing. Letting all his feelings out felt cathartic and refreshed, and though he was not ready to let go of the past yet, he at least felt ready to at least begin the next day.

That is, until he remembered he took four days of unexcused absence from work.

Kayneth was furious, even more so than usual, he was actually about ready to fire Diarmuid, but his wife, Sola-Ui, stepped in at the final hour and surprisingly enough, vouched for him. She said personal matters were often unpredictable so it would be unfair to fire such a "fine" manager when the situation was beyond his control.

Kayneth El-Melloi Archibald was infamous among the staff for being a difficult boss to work with, let alone be around; the only person he would listen to is Sola-Ui, not that she was any better. A stiff, petite woman, with her fresh pressed blouses and coiffed burgundy hair, she ran Volumen Irish Pub with a tiny iron fist.

But in all her prudish demeanor, for some apparent reason, likely aesthetic, she had a soft spot for Diarmuid. This weakness worked in his favor many times, almost too many. For the most part, he tried to avoid putting his attention to it as it felt uncomfortable most times, but for this instance, he was nothing but thankful.

He resumed work at Volumen like nothing had happened, he did all his usual managerial duties, but when he noticed a shortage of bartenders at the main bar, he considered hiring another worker, but after how the recent events precipitated, he decided it would be good to distract himself with another task.

Of course, Kayneth objected, but the odds were stacked against him this round. Not only was Diarmuid helping at the bar eliminating the need for another employee, he also had prior experience.

Back in Ireland at the local pub in Fianna, he earned the nickname "Knight of Fianna" for his unique ambidextrous style of making cocktails, spirits, and everything in-between. A shaker in one hand, the other drizzling a beer tap, it was like watching two people in one body and he quickly became the focal point of the pub. Diarmuid himself did not remember the first time he started training both hands, maybe it was to impress a girl he liked in pre-school, maybe earlier? At this point, multi-tasking with his hands was second nature. He just never would have thought the skill would be of use in making alcohol.

He finished pouring a batch of Irish Mule for a group of giddy women who squealed in their tipsy delights as he flashed his signature smile. The other patrons seemed alright with their current drinks after a quick scan around the bar. Diarmuid felt satisfied and began wiping down his black marble countertops with a towel along with the empty bar stations for good measure. The regular restaurant patrons also looked happy; today there was more shouting than usual, not in a bad way though. The regional football championship flashed through the numerous plasma screens Sola-Ui had installed for this very reason. Customers jumped up and pranced in victory when their favorite team makes a touchdown and when the team did not, they murmured and huddled in drunken consolation. Diarmuid sometimes even had to stifle a giggle when game groups would perform their "victory dance" with alcoholic twist.

Even in all its faults, Volumen is a place for people to celebrate, whether it be a game day or after a tiring day of work, people's rejoicing and pleasure are what define it as unique from the corporate towers sandwiching it. Each and every patron seeks hope as their lives are relentlessly mocked by the callings of reality. Their efforts were what made his job a wonderful place to be.

Diarmuid checked his phone to see how he was doing with time. Eleven-thirty, the standard lock-screen of the milky way flashed back to black as he shut it off and slipped it back in his jean pocket. It was time to close food service for the night. All unfulfilled orders would be finished, but unplaced orders for eats would have to be declined; drink service would continue until closing. This time also reminded him to bring in the little folding board that listed the day's specials. Originally the idea was to hang a chalkboard on the entrance wall, but Cú found the current board from who-knows which other part-time job he held, and brought it to Volumen. Everyday Diarmuid would decide the day's specials and happy hour deals and write in very classy calligraphy he learned from Gráinne. Customers were always surprised to find out that it was a man who wrote on the board, but that in turn only added to his repute of a man of many talents. Even after she left, he continued to use the swirly font because of how many people like the style.

Weaving through the tables to get from the back where the bar was and the front entrance, he checked in on the customers in his path to make sure everything was satisfactory.

"Ah! Diarmuid, there's a customer asking if they can get any more of the lava cake. I know food service is over so I'm just asking if you know if there's any more. My hands are a bit full right now…"

Bazett Fraga McRemitz, one of Volumen's most trusted and reliable of the wait staff tapped him lightly on the shoulder. Though one arm was free, the other was shouldering a large waiter's platter of draft beer.

"Hmm, there should be. You know Tamamo usually makes an extra one so just take from that cake."

"Damn, kind of wanted that cake after work though. It's fine, I'll go get it."

Both shared a light laugh and then went their separate ways. Diarmuid turned back to Bazett's direction.

"Hey, more food ordered means a bigger tip! Go use it to buy a cake!"

"Nah, the free stuff tastes twice as good!" the burgundy-haired waitress shouted back.

As Diarmuid approached the front doors he noticed the sound of rain. He did not expect it to rain today, especially since it had been sunny all afternoon and made a mental note to bring out a towel to the entrance so that customers' wet footsteps would not damage the hardwood floors.

The door creaked open, Diarmuid looked up at it with a look of concern. Kayneth, being Kayneth, wanted the "authentic" look of mahogany and therefore when choosing the door opted out of sealing it with a laminate to protect it from the elements and only had it treated to prevent bugs. He was a smart guy, sure, but just a bit too stubborn to ever see a bigger picture. Diarmuid also added to his mental note to talk to Sola-Ui to see if she could talk some sense into the man about the worn-down doors.

Outside was raining, as expected, but what he did not expect was a person. The person was a girl, and they looked rather drenched and he made the assumption that she was in the rain for a little while and undoubtedly uncomfortable especially since she was wearing long sleeves and long pants.

The board was right next to where she stood and Diarmuid decided it would be reasonable to ask her inside to help her warm up and dry off. Walking closer, he put on a smile as to not feel so imposing, not that he ever thought he was, but just for good measure.

"Miss, are you alright? Won't you come in?"

Her attention was on him ever since the door creaked open, but it was not until he picked up the board that he had a chance to inspect her features.

Despite her small stature, she was undoubtedly an adult; she wore head to toe black, including tie, he wondered if she had come from a funeral. Her golden locks tied into a low ponytail were dipped slightly darker because of the water she desperately tried to wring out. Most distinctive was her eyes, vibrant emerald gems that seemed capable of holding Diarmuid in a trance for all eternity.

For the first time in his life, Diarmuid felt his heart beating a little louder than usual.


	3. Chapter Three: Boundary

She was on the heels of tomorrow, yet Saber felt time stop as she felt the rambunctious vigor of those who tried so hard to grasp onto the edge of now.

They carried their energy on the parallel cedar panels, shaking the oil-tainted air with their voices and song, all worries and contempt festering and fading away. The round granite tables spilled onto the hardwood, inviting people to a space where no one is above the other, almost as if they meant to stand equal against the disorder. Booths lined the outer walls, each illuminated by the myriad colors of Tiffany lamps dangling from above. Four wooden pillars framed the center of the establishment, effectively splitting it into three even segments that all flowed to the main attraction, the bar.

The black marble countertops paired the swiveling, tongue-less, earless, eyeless barstools made only to be used by the tongue-ful, earful, and eyeful. The underside of the countertops was lit with a dim stream of neon blue, the only hint of the modernity forced outside this rustic institution save for the plasma televisions hanging overhead in the main dining floor. Beer taps sat in judgement with the drinkers, inviting the soul in temptation with handles of colorful imagery while the liquor bottles sat above and behind with the same seducing glare. Back-lit by electricity and the viewer's imagination, the wooden shelves of alcohol parted like the sea of some long-ago theological narrative to the promised land and revealed a beautiful rose window. Romantic blues and golds melting into pools of green, white and silver pulled in drifters' eyes, its infinite beauty bounded by the circular frame. If anyone stood in front of its holy glow, surely, they would be hailed as a messiah by any passing drunkard.

Volumen was vibrant, rustic, noisy, colorful, wonderful; Saber loved every inch of it and she had yet to even take one step in.

"Oh, please excuse me for one second." The jaunty Irishman's accent drowned in the pool of people's voices. He motioned for Saber to wait on the "welcome" mat and quickly dashed into a nearby storage closet.

When he returned, his arms were carrying a pile of fluffy, white towels. Two were given to Saber to dry off and one was placed on the floor in front of her, presumably to catch whatever water the mat did not.

"There's quite a downpour out there huh? Even though the weather report said it was to be clear all day." Saber was squeezing her hair as she nodded in agreement.

"It's just unfortunate that I had to forget an umbrella today." A contemplative silence followed before breaking into a thousand shards.

"Would you like to come in to sit for a while? You look like you need some time to cool down. Unfortunately, our food service is over, but we still have peanuts and _lots_ of spirits." The man, whom Saber made out to be named Diarmuid by his nametag, gestured to the drunken patrons dancing in the background.

"I would love to." And followed him as a warm feeling bubbled up inside.

Up close, the bar seemed even more surreal. The colors in the stained glass seemed to burst into a thousand more with every glance she took, the liquor bottles seemed to gaze upon her like angels of judgement, carving deep into her very existence every right and wrong she was to forget with the first sip of divine liquid. Diarmuid was simply the gatekeeper of their realm, in quiet observation of all who sought to enter. The experience was more than exhilarating; it was sublime.

Saber glanced at the drink list that Diarmuid handed to her when she sat down. It was chock full of drinks hailing from all over the world, from a simple and industrial Screwdriver to the whimsical and fruity sangrias, there was something for every drinker. On the back, there was an extensive list of non-alcoholic drinks, ranging from plain sodas to elegant teas. She focused in on the liquor, she kind of deserved it after everything that happened today.

"Excuse me!" She waved Diarmuid over from the other side of the bar. He smiled in acknowledgement and finished helping another patron with the bill before returning to her side.

"Are you ready to order?"

She nodded, "Can I get a Whiskey Sour? Oh, and those peanuts you mentioned, _lots_ of them."

"You got it."

Diarmuid quickly began pulling out a shaker and a bottle of Jim Beam to begin her request, and Saber soon found herself amazed at how swift and fluid his movements were in multi-tasking. His left hand was reaching for lemon juice while the right was busy spooning egg white into the canister. After a couple of vigorous shakes, he set the shaker down and pulled out a glass bowl and shoveled peanuts from a bin underneath. No movement was wasted, it was almost like a dance. Saber was impressed and she apparently showed it.

When presenting the blonde-haired girl with her order and snack, Diarmuid took notice of her wide eyes and slightly agape lips.

"Is there something wrong?" he asked cautiously.

"Oh no, no, no! I, uh, just never have seen anyone so skilled at multi-tasking with both hands! That is simply amazing." Saber waved her hands in front to further clarify, her face reddening from how obvious she was. Diarmuid responded with a small chuckle and gestured for her to wave the thought away.

"You flatter me too much. This is nothing, anyone could do this with a little practice."

"A _little_ practice meaning how many years?"

"Maybe fifteen or twenty?" he replied with a little grin.

Saber sipped her drink carefully, making sure she did not down it too quickly. It was the best drink she had ever had. It was pungent and refreshing, just like home.

"This is wonderful. Thank you." She took another gulp as she ate some peanuts.

"I'm very pleased you think so." Diarmuid nodded in thanks as he continued wiping down an empty glass. He looked up as he did so and studied Saber for a second.

"Are you alright?"

She looked up and met the man's gentle amber eyes, glinting with question; she set her now-empty glass on the wood with a light thud.

"Yes, I'm sorry for imposing."

"It's important to help those in need. Plus, you look like something's on your mind. It's never good to leave one's thoughts to fester alone." Saber held out her glass for another and the jaunty bartender happily obliged.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or simply her exhaustion, but Saber held no reservations in this golden opportunity to spill her frustrations to a complete stranger.

"Well…I mean…yes you're right, but please let me explain myself so it doesn't sound too odd. I work as a security officer at Grail Mall and…" she paused slightly and twisted her lips in contemplation.

"My coworker almost strangled two adult men."

Diarmuid, who had devoted all his attention to the petite blonde, upon hearing her reason, found it so bizarre that he couldn't help but stagger forward and cover his amused grin to mask his surprise.

"Holy shit." Was his only response.

"Wait wait! Let me finish!" Saber blushed, finished her second glass and set it down with a cold hard 'thunk' and motioned again for a refill.

"They were robbers! ROBBERS! And Berserker was the first on the scene even though usually we try to have the other agents deal with it first. It's always how we do things, yet today! Berserker decided to charge in! Imagine if he had actually killed them! I nearly had a heart attack seeing the two unconscious." She felt warm and her conscious wavered, so she asked for water instead of another glass. After an exasperated sigh, she continued.

"The paperwork I had to fill out afterwards! There were so many extra terrible forms and reports that had to be filled, I get chills thinking about it. I still remember Berserker's smug expression; well, I didn't actually see his face, but it's not like I want to anyways! His facial tattoos are so obnoxious and irritating, they're just asking me to ignore him."

The Irish man simply smiled and nodded in perfect sync with Saber's increasingly irritated, yet strangely calm tone. She didn't want to lose her poise in front of this perfect stranger, but then she realized her loudness was a disturbance and a pregnant pause ensued before she muttered,

"I'm sorry for the noise, I think I've had a bit too much."

"Oh no, I assure that you have, but don't worry, this late at night really no one is around to complain." Diarmuid replied casually as he refilled her empty peanut dish and handed her a glass of water.

"So, this Berserker…he seems like an interesting character, is there any reason why he doesn't approach first?"

"Oh, I should have explained that first, sorry. Our organization operates with seven categories, Saber, Archer, Lancer, Rider, Assassin, Caster, and Berserker." Diarmuid jumped upon hearing the title "Assassin", it sounded pretty intense if they needed a title of that caliber.

Saber noticed his concealed surprise and giggled. Throughout her whole rant his colorful expressions were what captured her attention, how his little mole twitched as he smiled then frowned then laughed, how his droopy puppy-dog eyes glittered with amusement; they were endearing and comforting.

Craning her neck up to Diarmuid's face, she tilted her head and pondered for a minute.

"Yes."

"Hm?" he raised his eyebrows curiously.

"You'd be a good lancer, I just know it."

Diarmuid pursed his lips and pondered her declaration.

"If the only tasks I had were to make food, drinks, and really good customer service, I'd be in perfect agreement." Both laughed, their voices echoing in Volumen which had emptied considerably since Saber first arrived.

"But I digress. Technically Assassins are _supposed_ to be the first to the scene, but today really just went awry because of Berserker." Another sigh followed, fingernails tapping on the glass impatiently.

"What class are you?"

"Saber. We work in tandem with the commander in issuing orders." She smirked and smugly tried to flip her damp hair as a joke but only ended up waving at the air.

"Berserkers are problematic in their behavior, but they're used for immediate force in dangerous situations. Sure, today's robbery was dangerous because the perpetrators were armed, but they held knives not guns, and Assassin could have easily taken care of them-"

"Wait, wait" Diarmuid stopped her, "You've been mentioning "assassin" a lot, but they don't kill…right?"

"Oh god no. We just call them that because they're trained to discreetly apprehend the target. We're a security company, not the mob."

A smatter of laughter ensued between the two.

"Well, it's fine, I didn't really imagine me here now, but now I'm here so that's that I guess. Beggars can't be choosers I guess, plus it's not like I hate my job; I like it quite a lot in fact."

Saber felt herself drooping from the depressing nature of alcohol and fought to sit herself back up to continue speaking.

"Though, I've always wondered where else I could be. Sometimes I try to imagine I'm working a different job, living in a different house, but I cannot see anything farther than what I have now."

A quiet but firm thunk of a glass shook the bar ever so slightly, stimulating her senses. Diarmuid set down the towel he was using to wipe the cup.

"As much as I would like to say this all happens to the best version of us, it sometimes makes me wonder if the 'best us' is truly now."

"Oh?" _how mysterious _Saber thought to herself jokingly but listened to see what the bartender had to say for himself.

"I mean, if I were to place myself back, say ten years. Looking through the lenses of the 'teenage me', I would not be able to recognize the me today. Where I had wanted to go is vastly different than where I ended up."

Saber tilted her head, intrigued, "So where did you see yourself ten years ago?"

The bartender chuckled lightly and scratched his fluffy hair in embarrassment, his golden eyes and mole crinkling with his smile,

"Well…just your standard teenage fantasy I guess. I used to do rugby so I thought I'd end up playing pro. I got injured in high school so that plan failed. My other plan was to work a white-collar job, get married, have a kid or two, maybe a dog, a house, and uh, yeah that's really about it. Nothing special." He paused to look around the now empty Volumen.

"Anyways" he continued, "The fifteen-year-old me would've never have saw himself tending to drunkards all day, still single and my only pet being the salmon kept in my freezer. No matter how I look at it, the teenaged me had things much more thought out than the me now."

"Are you content with where you are now?" she asked inquisitively.

Saber had calmed down from her whiskey-filled rant. Listening to Diarmuid talk was soothing; his voice was smooth and deep. Each sound uttered lifted something in her that fell down this afternoon.

"I'd say I am content, but that's because I really can't see myself anywhere else anymore. Ahh, growing old really changes a person's ideals. Even now I can hear my bones creaking and my muscles cramping." Diarmuid held his shoulder dramatically. Saber giggled and tapped his free hand with the palm of her hand.

"Oh, you shush! You're probably younger than me yet you act like you're on retirement benefits."

The Irishman returned her gesture with a gentle laugh and let go of his shoulder before leaning down on the counter with his face now only a few feet in front of Saber's. A slow grin grew from his lips.

"Is that a smile I see?"

"Hm?"

"Is-that-a-smile-I-see?" he enunciated again.

Saber could feel her cheeks reddening and a nice little feeling welled up inside her as she nodded.

"I'm glad."

"Yes, thanks to you. I appreciate you for listening, surely it must not have been pleasant."

"I assure you, working in the restaurant industry I have heard MUCH worse. Please do not be bothered."

It was getting late, Saber realized she has long since missed the last train home, so she decided it was now or never to leave. She signaled for him to provide her check and began digging around her bag until she dug up her wallet.

"So, what you said before, about the 'best us' I mean and that other stuff, I feel the same. Though these are just the words of a drunk, I wouldn't pay much mind. Often times I do wonder if I made the right decision moving to the city; if this really is the ideal that I imagined years back. Life takes us through so many unexpected turns, but we never realize it until we look back at the road we took." Coins and bills shifted around together in her palm as she continued to pull her drink's worth.

"Anyways, what I'm trying to say is I do believe today I became my 'best self', even if it was at the eleventh hour and for only a moment."

Turning to Diarmuid, she handed him the appropriate amount, but her outstretched hand was met with a firm shake of his finger. He folded Saber's fingers over the paper bills and quickly dashed into the back kitchen leaving a very confused Saber who took the chance to hide the money under her snack dish so that it seemed like she put it away. After about thirty seconds, Diarmuid returned with a square takeout box and handed it to Saber.

"Just a little bite to tide you over." She opened the box to reveal a large slice of chocolate lava cake, overflowing with chocolate filling and sweetness.

"I cannot accept this, I didn't even get to pay-" Diarmuid stopped her mid-sentence.

"Cheers to us as our best selves in this moment."

He pushed the little box into her hands and guided her through Volumen's heavy doors. A late-night taxi was whistled over and he helped the girl open the door to get in. Before she left, he whispered something to the taxi driver who nodded in understanding before handing him a small wad of money.

"Thank you." The girl whispered quietly just as the door was closing. The Irishman looked at her with a genuine smile,

"My pleasure." He watched as the taxi pull off into the distance, waiting until the taillights vanished into the pool of others of its kind.

Returning to Volumen's interior, Diarmuid felt a bit empty, given that it was closing time the pub was supposed to be like that, the other staffers had already gone home after cleaning the main floor so it was only him left. But, today's solidarity was heavier, it felt more oppressive.

He made his way to the back where the bar was and began cleaning up. Finishing up with glass scrubbing he moved onto the dish and when he lifted it, there lay the money the girl tried to give him before.

Gently he picked up the paper bills and coins and remembered the girl in front of him just moments earlier.

Even when angry she still remained dignified, poised, and elegant; never losing her honor to alcohol's temptation. In every aspect. He thought about the one drunken stupor he had that landed him the hospital and compared it to her rational discourse and scorned himself for his past mistakes. Diarmuid viewed her as beautiful, but she was worlds apart from him. She said they were the same, yet in reality they were so different. But even so, he couldn't help but have an undeniable admiration for her.

His heart jumping at first was no mistake; Diarmuid knew he had met someone remarkable.

Then it dawned on him that he did not even know this girl's name.


	4. Chapter Four: Best

**Chapter Four: Best**

It seemed that Saber's worries were not quite over with yet.

Once again, Morgana's humble abode was host to another extravagant party or rave or mosh pit, whatever it was being called these days. The pristine marble floor and countertops dripped with the sickly smell of alcohol and drunk spirits. Revelries ensued with those barely conscious enough to remember their names while those wholly passed out lay sprawling under people's feet.

Saber had to admit, it was a sight to behold, the dumpster of wasted human energy was right in front of her eyes, and she wanted none of it. She herself was tipsy, but still clear-minded enough to be wary of the chaos around her.

Pushing through a cluster of busty brunettes grinding against a glop of sloppy joes who eyed their curvatures lustily, she barely made it up the winding staircase and into her bedroom. She was so ready for some peace and quiet, but the lord had to present her with one more test.

"HEY! GET THE FUCK OUT!"

The clearly drunk couple looked up from their sloppy make out session in Saber's room, taking their sweet time to register who exactly called out to them and what exactly did that voice say. Finally, after what felt like years of them looking around, they made eye contact with the fuming blonde and they scurried out in a puff.

Saber took a second to examine her room, making sure nothing was stolen or messed up. It was the smallest room in the unit, and she kept it minimally furnished as a way to mentally remind herself that her residency was temporary. Her twin-size bed and its rickety metal frame laid against the wall next to the window providing a beautiful city view. On the sill she kept an aloe plant she got after catching succulent fever along with most other millennials. The fanciest items in her room were her oak wood nightstand and desk that were all bought as a set for a solid forty dollars from some old woman's garage sale. A very good steal in her humble opinion because the wood was very high quality and overall very beautiful. The closet remained bare for the most part as Saber mostly kept clothes in various hampers. Only the evening dress Maiya convinced her to buy on a whim and her dress shirts for work hung on the bar. In the corner of the closet, she also hid a tiny safe for keeping general valuables such as her wallet, passport, and such because Saber realized very early on, there will be many unwelcome guests in her room.

After locking the door behind her, Arturia stripped her still damp clothes and threw them into her designated "laundry corner". Sloppy? Very, but the less stuff she had when she can finally move out, the faster she can have her own life.

Walking into her bathroom, she noticed a strange smell emanating from the shower. Lifting the curtain a little revealed what looked like spilt oatmeal, but she knew it was a concoction of a more sinister origin. Quickly, she flipped on the water to wash down the less than delectable breakfast. This, and finding people tucked into shadowy corners of her room were nothing new to her. Dealing with these issues made her feel like she is working overtime, in her own room.

_Why they couldn't have just fucking thrown up in the toilet, _she thought for a second, but quickly dismissed because it was certain that there is no longer a single person at the party who is not completely wasted out of their minds.

Looking back in the shower, the mystery oatmeal had cleared. Saber stepped in, hoping that the water will do the same to her throbbing temples.

Flopping down on her bed, Arturia thought she'd feel a wave of sleepiness overcome her, but strangely she was as energetic as ever. The shower definitely helps refresh her senses, but she felt more motivated than relaxed. Was this the result of talking with that Irish bartender, uh, what was his name?

"_Cheers to us as our best selves in this moment." _

Saber recalled the talk they had earlier, in that moment she genuinely felt she had achieved her best self, that everything terrible that happened before was wholly irrelevant.

But then, she looked up and around, remembering her reality. The cake he gifted her sat patiently at her desk, almost like it was watching her. She sought that same feeling of contentment she had at Volumen, but it was not something handed to her on a silver platter.

If she wanted to retake her happiness, it was something she has to do herself. She could stay in Morgana's luxurious apartment, but it didn't feel earned. Arturia believed in hard work, and to leech others' goodwill, no matter how many strings came attached, was not part of her moral code.

Independence was something she had already obtained, but it always wants to flutter elsewhere.

Grabbing her laptop, she immediately booted it up to housing and rental sites and began searching furiously for a space for one.

Arturia had the weekend off next week, which was most fortuitous for her housing search of course.

It might just be his imagination, but Diarmuid has been finding it harder and harder to wash the scent of alcohol out of his hair.

Rubbing a towel over his drenched locks, he wondered if there was a special shampoo he could buy in case it wasn't just his nose that smelled the worldly spirits.

"Do you still need the show-" he called out unconsciously before stopping himself halfway.

_Oh._

It's been a while since she left, but Diarmuid still was not used to this silence after all this time. Habits, good and bad, die hard it seems. Gráinne always stayed up until he did, if not later, so there was always a presence around at this time.

After slipping on a fresh set of clothing, he padded his way to his bedroom. The scenery has not changed, not that it should have. The sheets on his bed were all-white, Egyptian cotton imports, the pillows made of natural down, and the comforter a five-hundred thread count piece. Of course, this was all at the behest of Gráinne. It was strange, really, the elegant girl who chose a life of normalcy with Diarmuid could not throw away her desire for luxury, even in all her infatuation for an ordinary man from Fianna.

Habits, good and bad, die hard it seems.

Looking around his bedroom, Diarmuid realized most, if not all of the decorations and furniture were picked out by Gráinne. Everything was white, pure, uncorrupted white, like it was a metaphor for what Gráinne embodies.

Or what he thought she did.

Diarmuid lay down on his bed and pulled out his phone when it

"_Gae Bulge (lol)"_ read the contact screen. Cú protested heavily when he first realized what his nickname was in his best friend's phone, but he still has yet to change it despite having many chances to do so.

"What up, Gae Bulge?"

"I will straight up murder you." The man on the other line snapped.

"Hey, wasn't it you who called me at like..." Diarmuid checked the time, "I don't fucking know, TWO in the morning?"

"Tch"

"What do you want? I'm tired so be quick."

"A little birdy told me you were flirting with some blondie at work today, so I just wanted to pop in to cock-block real fast." The black-haired man groaned internally; why was Cú like this and why is he still friends with him.

"Since when have I been the kind of person to sleep with someone I meet for the first time?"

"Since you broke up a perfectly good engagement and ran off with the girl, I don't know man."

"…I'm hanging up asshat."

"NO! NO! Wait! I'm sorry." Cú fake wailed and Diarmuid rolled his eyes, stifling a small laugh while rolling over to reach for a pillow.

"Why are you so involved with my love life, Cú? Even though you and your brothers are like my closest friends, I don't _need_ to tell you everything."

There was silence on the end for a few moments;

"Alright, FINE, be that way! But at least tell me if there's _anything _going on, like even a phone number on a napkin or something. I. NEED. THE. TEA." Cú's voice got progressively louder and Dia wondered what his neighbors thought of it.

"Dude I don't even know her name! I just chatted as I do with every customer."

"Uh-huh, you forgot to mention that you guys totally were playing with each other, leaning close, touching hands..." he trailed off, obviously trying to insinuate something that clearly didn't exist.

"You're acting like a teenage girl. Also how did you know we talked and stuff? You weren't working today." Diarmuid got tired of holding the phone so he threw it beside him and hit speaker.

"Don't sweat the details man." Cú scoffed back, "Dia, you know I wouldn't be calling about something like this without reason, especially not so late at night! I need my beauty sleep, you know."

Diarmuid sighed, he knew this would go on until he gave into something. Cú is very persistent in getting what he wants, that is the main lesson of being friends with him has taught Dia.

"Look, she was just a girl taking shelter from the rain. Brought her in to dry off, she ordered some drinks, then left. That's all, I swear!"

"My source does not lie." Cú hinted ominously. Diarmuid sighed again and made a mental note to give a stern talking to all the staff about gossiping.

"We talked about her work as a security officer, my ambidexterity, hence the leaning and touching because she wanted to see me work up close, and what we wanted for ourselves. That's all."

Silence.

"Hold up! Hold THE FUCK up! That last topic is DEFINITELY NOT something you talk about with anyone! Diarmuid Ua Duibhne! Who is she?!" Cú was basically screaming into the phone at this point. Diarmuid on the other hand, was just struggling to stay awake and blinked sleepily at the side of his phone.

"I'll tell…you more next time we meet okay? Good night Cú." He ignored the other man's cries of protest and pressed the hang up call button. In all of Cú's shouting, there was one-point Dia had to acknowledge. Some topics he talked about were not typical of a first encounter, but the conversation goes where it goes, right?

Drifting between conscious and subconscious realms, Diarmuid wondered if he would ever meet the golden-haired woman again.

He was fascinated with her, unreservedly so, but he'd never admit it, at least not now. To be honest, he wasn't sure how he felt about feeling this way. Undoubtedly his feelings were positive, but she was something new and unknown, and after so many years of experiencing normalcy, he didn't know what to do.

Nonetheless, something he knows is that he wants to take this mysterious feeling into his heart wholeheartedly and then run to be by her side.

There was so much he wanted to talk about with her.

But…maybe the first thing he'd better do is ask for a name.

That night, Diarmuid dreamed of a golden-haired, green-eyed woman and himself, hand-in-hand, standing in a flower garden that stretched towards the endless glittering horizon.


	5. Chapter Five: Welcome

**Chapter Five: Welcome**

"Hello, hello! I presume that you are Miss Arturia Pendragon?"

Today was the day Saber would finally meet her fated match. Her destiny and hope for her future! Today was the day she would finally find a home she can call her own, yes! She cleared her entire day for this purpose and with the number of houses she wanted to see, there had to be at least one she liked.

All the hard work she had done this week at work was in preparation for her own house! Saber was never one to calculate the nitty-gritty details, but this week she had worked enough overtime to afford even her most expensive choice!

The young woman turned around to come face-to-face with who she presumed to be the realtor showing her around, heavy on the presumption because he did not exactly look the part. A messy shock of minty green hair and equally bright eyes greeted her visual senses. Dressed casually in a white shirt, red oversized Sherpa, distressed light-wash jeans, all topped with a dusty brown knit scarf and Gucci sandals, if the man had been about ten centimeters taller then he would've looked like a model who just walked out during New York fashion week.

"Um, yes I am. Are you Solomon from Solomon Realty?" she nodded, confused.

"Unfortunately, my associate had an emergency last-minute, I hope you understand. My name is David, and don't worry, I assure you I am going to take good care of you." David handed his business card over to her and promptly held out his hand.

_David: day-trader; investor; financial analyst; advisor; on bullish terms with God _read the matte cardstock slip.

Nowhere did it say anything about housing, but what choice did Saber have now? Plus, real-estate investment seems to be up his alley so close enough?

She smiled, albeit nervous, and gave his hand a firm shake.

"I see you're interested in viewing all of these properties…" David brought out documents listing each of the properties Saber is interested in and she nodded in return.

"That's quite a lot, we have a lot to get through today! Luckily being the genius that I am, your first unit is right behind our meeting place that I decided on!" David swiped his hair back haughtily and pointed to the apartment complex behind them.

Normally Saber would have visibly grimaced at his overt self-praise, but she was too excited to care and bounded up to the door excitedly.

_Several hours later…_

Saber was not a beggar, nor was she a chooser, nor was she a choosing beggar, but there was not a single apartment out of all the ones she looked at that suited her. She couldn't believe it!

There was so much hope in her eyes when they entered the first house.

"_Miss, this is our first unit; one bed, one bath, unfurnished and fully renovated." David trilled enthusiastically._

_It was a small space, but Saber didn't need much space for herself, so it was quite nice. The floorplan was very open and the windows very large, so it felt much bigger than what it was._

_She slipped into the small kitchen and opened some of the cabinets. Everything seemed normal, save for a little water patch under the sink._

"_Hey David?"_

"_Yes?"_

"_Can you come over and take a look at this wet spot I found? Just curious if I can get a discounted rate because of it." She waved him over to the kitchen. The mint-haired man bent down and examined the area, but after a few moments quickly stood up._

"_I had a vague idea entering this unit, Miss, but this confirms it. Let us first move outside to discuss." Saber was confused but followed the man outside._

_David promptly relocked the real-estate lock box with the key and turned to face Saber._

"_Did you by any chance smell anything musty when you walked in?"_

"_I don't think so. Maybe a little?"_

_David nodded, "Well Miss, I have some unfortunate news for you. I had an irking suspicion, but the water spot you've discovered confirmed it. We have just witnessed the birth of toxic black mold."_

_Saber's jaw slacked; he couldn't be serious._

"_A-are you sure? But didn't they just renovate the unit like some months ago?"_

"_As a real-estate investor, especially one as good as me, you learn a thing or two when it comes to evaluating property quality. During renovation there was likely a crossover or a leak that sprung that simply went unfixed, incredibly careless indeed, but it happens. This unit is likely not habitable for a long while until they can deal with that mess." David was very calm throughout the entire time he was destroying Saber's hopes. He seemed to be quite used to doing that._

_The news was like five heavy stones on Saber's heart, but she still held some hope. _

"_Come Miss, onto the next property. The day is not young for long!" David elegantly motioned with his finger for Saber to follow._

The next apartments they viewed were no better, if not worse. Carbon monoxide leak, no plumbing, rat and cockroach infestation, basically anything that could go wrong, went wrong.

The day was completely wasted, the last unit was viewed and also deemed a lost cause. It was on the fifth and top floor of a modest red-brick complex that seemed livable. No elevator, only stairs, but she did not care. It was close to work so she could save even more with transportation. The inside was also relatively normal, hardwood floors and an adjacent bedroom and small kitchen. David confirmed there were no physical issues, thankfully, but dropped a little bombshell right as they entered the bedroom space.

"_Miss, this house is quite special."_

"_Oh? How so?"_

"_I'm sure you have heard of Gilles de Rais, the infamous serial killer they apprehended a while back?" David asked, very calmly._

"_Yes? What does this-oh SHIT was this his house and where all the-"_

"_You, my dear, are incredibly intelligent. I admire that." David grinned and patted Saber's shoulder. She facepalmed. Hard._

"_You see, there are quite a few horror enthusiasts interested in this place, so this place is quite a hot sell. I advise that you make a decision soon so that you can have first dibs at this haunted pot of gold." Giggling to himself, David entered his dollar sign la-la-land and Saber just sighed._

Her luck couldn't be this bad right? How could the only apartment in her budget be a murder house? And it's THE Gilles de Rais's! Even at her old place she'd seen her fair share of danger, but this was on another level. Sure, the apartment now was cleaned up and the neighborhood itself was not dangerous, but Saber did not know if she could live in it with a clear conscious while maintaining her stringent sanity.

But, beggars cannot be choosers! There are no such things as ghosts or spirits anyways! This apartment was quite a hotspot so the sooner the better.

"David, can you make an offer?"

"Oh? Well, congratulations miss! I'm glad we could find one unit that piqued your interest. I will make the call now." David pulled out his sleek phone to dial the realtor of the property.

He stayed on the phone for about ten minutes while Saber took another good look around her new apartment.

This was it! She finally had a place of her own, and better yet, one that wouldn't have vomit in the bathroom every night, and that actually passed the fire code.

David's phone snapped shut and he called Saber over from the kitchen where she was examining the cabinets.

"Miss, I just spoke with-"

"And?!"

"Hm, I am not sure how you will feel about this, so I will be frank. The current proprietor received a much greater offer to buy out this unit."

Hearing this, she felt nervous, she couldn't afford to stretch her bank account much further, "How much?"

"They did not give specifics, but I imagine it is more than double your offer. Apparently, the buyers want to turn it into a GroundBnB. Quite a smart move I might say."

"What the hell? I can't afford to beat that offer!" the young woman rubbed her temples and let out a frustrated huff. She was back at square one. David glanced around, feeling a little out of place, but still kept that somewhat irritating little smile on his face.

"Now, now, Miss, this sort of thing happens all the time. From my experience, being outbid was more common than winning the sale, so it is best to just move on."

Saber sighed, it was hard enough to get a full day off like this, so it felt like a couple knifes struck her in the back because she wasted it.

David held out his hand, "This concludes our listings for today. I do regret we were not able to find a good fit for you, but should you ever need to call upon Solomon Realty or myself, you will always have my card."

She returned the handshake with a little nod of thanks, and like that, David was off on his merry way. After a few minutes more of staring at the apartment door, the reality sank in and thus began the sad, slow descent.

On her way down, her phone, still cracked, rang.

"Hey, Maiya."

"How did your housing search go?"

"Eh…really could not have gone any worse. You know, I got to see that one murderer's, you know the one, former base in person and I even went in. Almost got it actually."

Even through the phone she could hear Maiya visibly cringe in response.

"I find that very repulsive, and I can't believe you would stoop to those standards."

"Hey! It was completely remodeled and looked really good. You just have to see it yourself."

"I'll pass. Why did you back out in the end?"

_Sigh._

"There was another offer by GroundBnB developers that I couldn't beat. I hate to continue imposing on my sister and my own sanity, but I'll be at her place for a bit longer it seems."

"I am always here to help you." Maiya was straightforward as ever. Saber waved her off on her side.

"Your hands are already tied with Sigma. It should be me who is offering help; don't-ah!"

There was an incredible sense of déjà vu when Saber's phone once again flew out of her hand, clattering noisily onto the ground. It wasn't any fault of hers for this sudden predicament, nor was it the fault of the person who opened their apartment door just as she walked behind. It was simply a bad case of misfortune, an illness that has seemed to plague Saber for the time being.

Before Saber had a chance to even process what had occurred, preferring to simply stand frozen in surprise, a familiar voice rang through her ears.

"Are you alright? I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." Saber snapped out of her daze and came face-to-face with a certain Irish bartender. An expression of recognition crossed both of their faces and they simultaneously pointed at one another.

"You're- ", she started.

"From that one night- ", he continued.

"Right?"


	6. Chapter Six: Perception

**Chapter Six: Perception**

Maiya considered herself a rather perceptive person, not super, but just enough. That's why, when her friend Arturia Pendragon hurriedly told her she'd call her back, she knew something was up. From the strange clattering sound, she heard just before, it seemed that she was likely startled by something or someone.

Sigma rested quietly in her lap as she bounced him up and down gently, considering her options. She could call Arturia back, but the chances of her picking up were slim, so she opted to just wait it out and see what happens.

Maiya knew well enough to just stay out of her way for as long as she can.

"What do you think Aunt Arturia is doing hm?" Maiya asked the infant in her lap. He just gurgled and smiled as she poked his cute and chubby cheeks.

"Yeah, it really isn't my business hm?"

Unexpectedly, Saber was sitting in front of the bartender she hee-hawed her drunken thoughts to, caressing a mug of chamomile tea in his apartment.

Eyeing the space, she noted it was surprisingly well put-together. The small teak dining table and kitchen, complete with matching pots and stainless-steel appliances, stood facing the entrance. The living room immediately followed to the left, the light-colored sofa, matching coffee table and lamps reflected the setting sunshine filtering from the thinly veiled windows. Even the succulents by the window were fashionable. Two closed doors on opposite walls of the apartment extended into what she assumed to be bedrooms. The thought of a man's bedroom made Saber blush with embarrassment for such improper thoughts. She took a long sip of her tea to calm her overactive imagination.

The whole space looked like it was coordinated by a professional, Saber felt like she had stepped into a display at IKEA.

"I did not expect to meet you again so soon; how have you been?"

His smooth voice broke the silence first, and for the first time since she arrived, her jade eyes met his piercing golden gaze.

Saber smiled and sipped her tea, "I have been well, thank you very much err-Dia…mante?" She mentally punched herself in the face for forgetting his name so easily.

"Haha, it's Diarmuid. Diarmuid Ua Duibhne. It's very long and very Irish so many people have a hard time with it." He paused and grinned sheepishly,

"I apologize if I'm mistaken, I don't believe I ever got your name, Miss…?"

"Oh no, it was discourteous of me to not introduce myself before. My name is Arturia Pendragon. It's not as long, but very English, so if it is easier, you may call me Saber."

"That sounds like a very kingly name. May I call you King Arthur?" Diarmuid's grin spread. Arturia stifled a small chuckle.

"Oh please, I may speak The Crown's tongue, but I am hardly worthy of such a title."

"So, what brings you to this quaint complex this fine weekend? Do you live here? I have never seen you before, but that's common."

Arturia was groaning on the inside, she did not want to dump more of her issues on this poor, almost-stranger. She could just tell a lie and say she was visiting a friend, but her honor forbids her from doing so.

That being said, her honor didn't say she had to tell the whole truth.

"I was actually here looking at apartments! The area is close to work and-"

"Oh! Were you looking at the de Rais place? I've seen quite a few new faces around here so I thought that might be it."

"yeah…"

Diarmuid folded his arms smartly and rubbed his chin with his index finger as he thought for a second.

"I see, I see. So that's what they've decided to do with that place. Now that I think about it, the police even interviewed me when the investigation was ongoing. I was lucky enough to have never met that person, so I was not much help. Though, my neighbor, strange bastard he is, snuck in one night out of curiosity, but told me he left feeling incredibly disgusted. The place was far beyond condemnation. Poor man took a week off work to recover."

Arturia's stomach churned. Hearing a direct account, even without graphic details, was enough to instill a sense of relief that she did not win the bid.

"They fixed it up quite nicely, if I do say so myself. I almost bought it, but someone had outbid me with double my offer. Hearing your neighbor's account made me have second thoughts about any more murder houses, so I am a bit relieved. Just be on the lookout for more strangers here because that place is being turned into a GroundBnB."

"Oh God…I can only imagine what guests that place will bring." He sighed and checked his watch before getting up from his seat.

"Miss Pendragon," he started,

"Arturia or Saber is fine, Mr. Ua Duibhne." His name rolled off her tongue so smoothly it gave him the chills.

"Yes, sorry. Saber, have you eaten yet?"

"Not yet…" she trailed off, realizing she had also skipped lunch and her stomach was telling her so.

"Well then, would you care to join me for a quick bite to eat before you head home? I know of a wonderful Thai place around here."

Normally Arturia would have been more reserved in her judgement and chosen to just head back, but she felt her chest tighten a little. Being able to have such a chance meeting was unlikely. Her mind wanted to think conservatively, but her heart (and her stomach) were thinking greater.

"I would love that."

"Well, I'm surprised how a little Irish country boy like you can hold spice so well. Didn't half of your population die at some point because you ran out of _POTATOES_?" Saber gestured to the red curry residue on Diarmuid's empty plate.

The Irishman smirked and pointed back at her equally hot pad kee mao, "I could say the same to you. I thought the only food the English were known for was crusty biscuits. Your ancestors spent their lives conquering the known world for spices they never bothered to learn how to use!"

"Like yours learned any better!"

Both burst into a fit of laughter and clinked beer glasses. It was safe to say that though they weren't drunk or even tipsy, but they had dropped some formalities, with a little help of the miracle liquid. They just felt incredibly comfortable around one another; their conversations flowed naturally from one thing to another without prompt. It had been hours since they had arrived, but it seemed it still was not enough time spent with one another.

The restaurant a small, hole-in-the-wall joint, but it was packed with the fragrant curries and freshly steamed rice as well as the customers' rowdy chatter and happy emotion. Saber thought the place reminded her of Volumen, maybe aside from the amazing food, that was why Diarmuid liked it so much.

"So, aside from the de Rais unit, have you taken a look at other places?"

"Haha, yes. Actually, today was spent solely looking at different properties. I was hoping to find my own place and stop burdening my sister whom I live with now."

"And?"

"Well…it wasn't that I did not like any of the properties. They were all wonderful, but each had a certain…shall we say "catch" to them that made them unsellable in their current state. I probably have to expand my budget, take out a few loans, jump through a few more hoops to find a place."

Diarmuid nodded in understanding and fell silent for a moment. Saber immediately regretted burdening him with her issues again.

"It's really not a big deal, I'm not too worried. It's just always important to try."

Diarmuid's eyes lit up, like he just thought of something important, but he held back his expression of realization,

"Never has a truer statement been said, Ms. Pendragon." His gaze hovered on hers for a second; no tension, just soul.

"It's Arturia, remember?"

"Aha, that's right."

Arturia had asked that Diarmuid part ways with her at the restaurant, but since it was dark, he offered to call a cab. She insisted it was only a short twenty-minute walk, plus he had paid for dinner so she felt bad imposing more, but they compromised and Diarmuid would simply walk with her back.

They reached the gates leading up to the luxury complex, and Diarmuid was stunned at its grandeur.

"Remind me again why you want to move out?" He questioned her jokingly.

Arturia laughed and pulled out her cell phone,

"Could I get your number? It was a pleasure talking to you."

"Of course, I quite enjoyed tonight as well." It had been a while since Diarmuid last exchanged numbers with a girl; he felt kind of giddy, like a high schooler going to prom.

The blonde-haired woman waved goodbye and began walking towards the gate. It was supposed to be the end of an otherwise normal evening. He waved back and began walking the other way.

There were many untied strings at the end of the day, but that was to be expected. Arturia turned back to see Diarmuid's tall figure vanishing into the cracks of the concrete jungle; she wanted to call out to him, but her voice was lodged in her throat. There was a slight image in her mind of her and him, and even though the thought itself felt so improper, Arturia could not deny she wanted it.

She watched until his figure could no longer be seen and turned back around to go home.

Goodbyes were hard, but this was just the first of many. There was much more to come in a blossoming friendship.

She knew she would see him again.

After showering, Saber flopped onto her mattress and dialed the only number in her favorites list.

"Hey Maiya. You up?"

"As always. Want to tell me what happened?"

"Well, remember when I met that guy?"


	7. Chapter Seven: Training

**Chapter Seven: Training**

Saber awoke to a noisy bell of an alarm and a cryptic text from her boss's boss's boss's some-some boss, Irisviel.

Saber has not seen Diarmuid since that night, and it had already been over a month. They occasionally exchanged texts and other pleasantries, but each time they tried meeting up, at least one of their schedules conflicted. Such was the life of a societal drone, she supposed.

Saber was so busy, she barely even had time to search for her own apartment, though she had been keeping in touch with David in case he found a suitable unit.

It was sad, but that was her new, or maybe just original, reality. Nothing had changed. The day the two met was likely just a fluke, a singularity that had not been pruned from reality.

"_Hello Ms. Saber! Please meet me in Ritsuka's office ;P"_ the message read. Irisviel usually only sent messages when she invited Saber out to eat or to ask her to play with Irisviel. She typically never talked about work, so this text came as a surprise.

Considering the context, especially the face emoji at the end, a text from Irisviel about work could mean one of two things.

One, she was just going in a roundabout way to ask her to tea like she always does.

Two, she was going to be canned.

It probably wasn't the latter, but Saber could not help but wonder if someone ratted her out for always drunk complaining about her annoying husband Kiritsugu Emiya.

Throwing the sheets off, Saber skittled out of bed, brushed her teeth and threw on her uniform before heading out to work.

The subway was crowded, as always, but she found enough space to pull out her phone and fire a quick text to Irisviel asking what she wanted to meet about. It probably was not anything bad, but given her recent track record, really anything could happen.

"_I need to speak to you in person."_ Was the reply. Well, it seems to not be about tea at least.

The rest of her journey was a blur as she tried to squeeze her tiny frame through the crowds of people exiting and entering the station and rushed through the doors to the large complex, up three flights of stairs through a long, well-hidden corridor to the small office of operations.

"Irisviel, what did you need to speak with me about?" The heavy metal door slammed behind a frazzled Saber as she came to face the prim white-haired woman. Opposite her was Hassan of the Cursed Arm, a veteran Assassin and to her right, two very unfamiliar faces.

The first was a rather tall, peachy woman whose rosy cheeks matched her messy bun. She casually flashed a radiant smile and bowed slightly. On the other hand, the man beside her remained stoic and gave a single nod to acknowledge Saber's presence. His eyes were sharp, but they seemed focused on something Saber could not see or feel. Both were dressed in the typical black formal wear required by the agency, but while the woman seemed perfectly content with the uniform, Saber could tell the man was slightly uncomfortable with his collar and sleeves, tugging at them ever so slightly. His long purple hair trailed down his back in a high ponytail while made frequent adjustments to pull the remaining loose strands out of the blazer collar.

Saber soon realized Irisviel only wanted to introduce her to the new recruits, all that overthinking she had done in the morning was unnecessary. It was just that usually it was Ritsuka and Mash who took care of such matters, so it was still a strange situation.

"Hello Saber! So glad you could make it!" Irisviel said with a gleeful smile,

"Well, it's my job after all." Saber retorted playfully.

"Now don't be like that, today I want to introduce you to our newest members of the team! I know Ritsuka typically takes care of these things, but I sent him and dear Mash off with the others to the clients at the farmers' market. Anyways, you two!" she gestured towards the supposed new recruits,

"Introduce yourselves please!"

The peachy woman stepped up first, "Hello! My name is Musashi Miyamoto, I will be operating as a Saber starting today so I look forward to working with you Saber!" She took Saber's hand and shook it vigorously. Saber was surprised by her heavy grip strength but remained composed.

"Nice to meet you Ms. Miyamoto. My name is Arturia Pendragon; I have been working as a Saber for a while now so please do not hesitate to ask any questions."

Musashi chucked, "Aw, just call me Musashi!" Saber nodded with a small grin.

After Musashi was, of course, the stiff man beside her.

"My name is Kojirou Sasaki. I will be working under the title of Assassin."

"Nice to meet you. I am Arturia Pendragon, and like I mentioned before, I work as a Saber. I look forward to working with you Mr. Sasaki."

The man took Saber's outstretched hand, and after a single shake he stepped back to let Irisviel take the imaginary stage.

"Alrighty, since you two have already met Mr. Hassan beforehand, there's no need to introduce yourselves a third time. Now I want to officially welcome you to Chaldea Security Organization! This week, you will be training with your respective supervisors, Musashi to Arturia and Kojirou to Mr. Hassan to learn about the basic tasks and objectives of the job. I'm sure they will do a fantastic job!" Irisviel trilled happily.

The snowy woman mentioned she had to hurry off to a board meeting and quickly left the scene. Arturia motioned for Musashi to direct her eyes towards a large glass bulletin board hanging on the wall. The surface was covered with diagrams and a list of everyone on duty. Hassan did the same and motioned for Kojirou to listen in.

"So, despite the mess it is in, this is our assignment board. Before every shift you are to look at the location you are assigned to monitor." She scanned the list looking for her name,

"Ah, okay. So, since you are following me this week, your assignment will be the same as mine. Today we are assigned to Museum of Modern Art. Hassan, Kojirou, I believe you two are assigned to the gardens." Hassan and Kojirou silently left to begin their shifts. Saber noticed Musashi's look of confusion.

"I haven't lived here that long, so sorry if this is a stupid question, but I thought this was a mall?"

Nodding in understanding, Saber motioned for her to follow, "You're right, but it's quite a few things actually. It's adjacent to the Museum District, and Museum of Modern Art is actually directly connected to this complex. The Assassin group just left for the Garden of Avalon, the city's largest botanical garden. Chaldea is contracted to all of these venues, and others long-term, so we see them and Grail Mall as a single package."

"Alrighty, but in short, we're just glorified mall cops?"

"I mean…" Saber laughed awkwardly, Musashi was not entirely wrong.

"Well…you could put it that way, but you'll find most of your assignments in the museums. Come holiday shopping season, however, you'll see…hehe." The last sentence was uttered rather ominously and sent chills running up Musashi's spine.

It felt as if they had been walking for a while, Musashi glanced around at the glimmering storefronts illuminated by the light flooding the glass ceiling and the multitude of LED installations, each shinier than the previous. Capitalism was blinding, but so, so beautiful.

"Alright, so this is our position for the day." The duo rounded the corner and after traversing through a fully transparent skywalk, they arrived at the Museum of Modern Art. The inside was both curvy and angular, no ninety-degree angle in sight. Musashi marveled at the architectural ingenuity while Arturia spoke to the receptionist and collected their clearance badges.

"The museum is beautiful right? Our city commissioned the design from Zaha Hadid herself. It's my favorite place to be assigned." Saber handed her trainee a badge and motioned for her to listen to work protocol as they began making rounds through the exhibition hall. On the way Saber noticed a familiar figure's cowboy hat in the corner by the dada spotlight display.

"Hey! Archer!" she called out and waved. The previously obscured face now became abundantly clear after looking up to see who used his title.

"_Ohmygod he's hot."_ Musashi's brain immediately wandered through the man's slim build.

"Ah! Well howdy Saber! Been a while since I gotta shift with ya'." Archer tipped his hat and peered over her shoulder to see a red-faced Musashi who slinked out from behind and offered a shy wave.

"HELLO! I know we can't exchange personal names while on-duty, but Mr. Cowboy slash Archer, but I just want to say that…that!" she pointed and shook her finger at the gun resting on Archer's hip.

"I really like you! Spar with me sometime!" the words just rolled out of her mouth without her thinking. _"Ah."_ Was her only thought after thoroughly processing her social transgression.

The Archer just chuckled "Miss, I appreciate ya' feelins, but I wanna ask, can ya' really handle my Thunderer? She packs quite 'ta hard punch, even wittout them real bullets, and I ain't one ta' miss so easily."

His earpiece buzzed and his attention turned to the unknown speaker, muttering quietly before turning back to the two women.

"Well! Time for me to skedaddle! The new Rider's having a bit o' trouble with his territory so I reckon he needs some help wranglin' things in."

With a quick dip of his hat, he bid the two girls goodbye and took off. Musashi did not even get a chance to properly finish the conversation and stood there, glum.

Arturia turned to her trainee and patted her shoulder,

"I understand it is your first day, but please refrain from excessive non-essential conversation. You'll have plenty of time to meet your coworkers later."

Musashi nodded with a smile, "Sorry, I'll be more careful. I want to ask though…" she gestured in the direction Billy went in,

"What do Archers do? I was only briefed about my duties at orientation."

"Right, uh, since you did not go through the standard training and testing procedure most of our agents go through, you might not know. I guess it is true that they're throwing outside recruits into the deep end." Saber sighed and stopped her explanation to remind a young museum guest to avoid touching the exhibitions.

"Hehe, yep. Both me and Kojirou were outside applicants. I looked up general stuff online but that's about it."

"There's seven classes," she resumed without stopping a beat, "Saber, Archer, Lancer, Rider, Caster, Assassin, and Berserker. Going in order, we Sabers coordinate with the commander, Ritsuka, as well as the other classes to issue orders, as you already know."

Gesturing to the earpieces she and Musashi wore, "Treat this like gold, you hear? It's crucial in maintaining effective communication with the team."

"Yes ma'am!"

"Now the others, let's start with Archer. Think of them as offensive support. They jump around assisting the other agents as needed. They are unique in that they make up the distance the classes face in large areas. Lancers are trained to be agile and flexible, so they work especially well in chaotic areas like large crowds and are incredibly efficient."

Their earpieces buzzed, as if on cue. It was Archer and Rider.

"Report for Saber! Rider and Archer have restored equilibrium. Three uncooperative guests were escorted from premises."

Saber pressed the speaker button, "Good work, please have a report prepared by five."

"Roger!"

Saber turned back to Musashi, "You are already be familiar with reporting procedure, right?"

"Eeyup ma'am! That much I know"

"That's good that they taught you that at least. Now just quickly running through the other four classes. Riders, well, they are our mounted agents that operate outside. The Rider just now was assigned to the parking garage, so they were probably dealing with people shirking their parking fees. Casters are in control of our entire surveillance and communication systems; honestly, to say they are geniuses is an understatement. Our systems are unique to our organization and are continuously recoded and upgraded by our Casters. Assassins, no they don't kill, but if there's ever a problem, they are always the first responders. Lastly, the Berserkers." Saber sighed a bit.

"I'll tell you this now because I wish someone had told me when I first started. Berserkers are hard to deal with because unlike other agents, they have no rules restricting their use of force. They act in full capacity for highly dangerous or volatile situations. It'll _almost_ never come to it, but just know, if a Berserker acts, be prepared for lots of ambulance sirens and paperwork."

When Musashi turned to face her superior, she saw the pain reflected in her glassy emerald eyes, so she decided to acknowledge the information and not press it further.

She raised a hand to salute and acknowledge the day's teachings.

"Thank you very much for the lesson! I'll be in your care, Boss!" Musashi bowed ninety degrees and stuck her hand out for Saber to shake. Saber was confused but returned the shake firmly and gave her subordinate a little grin.

"I look forward to working with you too. Now, the first order I'll give you is to only call me Saber."

"Roger that Bos-err, Ma'am!"

Her superior gave a light chuckle, "We can work on that."


	8. Chapter Eight: Reunion

**Chapter Eight: Reunion**

The rest of their week went by smoothly. Both Musashi and Kojirou graduated from training and finally became full-fledged agents of Chaldea. Saber was proud of her underling, Musashi was a quick learner and definitely shown her skills worthy of the job on numerous occasions the past week, so she and the other agents arranged time for a congratulations slash welcome party for both of them.

"What for?" Kojirou asked when his upper, Hassan, asked if he had some free time after work.

"Why a welcome party of course! Gotta start the job off right with some tasty ol' booze!" Archer enthusiastically slung his arm around the fledgling Assassin.

"Well, I'm definitely coming! Kojirou you will to, whether you like it or not." The peachy-haired woman declared as she began dragging her companion to the heavy glass doors.

The group was hit with a cool, icy breeze. It was still too early for the year to call itself Winter, but today it felt near impossible to feel that it was anything else.

"I know this cool Irish bar around here that my friend works at! It's called Volumen. Have you guys heard of it?" Lancer, who introduced herself as Jaguar Man. Her eyes glittered, probably thinking about all the booze to come that night. Everyone but Saber shook their heads.

"Oh, I've actually been once. The drinks are really nice." She remarked, purposely a bit vaguely.

Happy that at least someone knew what she was talking about, Jaguar Man began jumping off the walls in glee, "LET'S GOOOOOO!" she shouted and began skipping in the direction of Volumen.

Walking through the creaking mahogany door, Saber realized the last time she was here was when she was soaked through her shoes in both misery and rain.

That was the time she met Diarmuid and had a rather deep, though slurred rambling about nothing, but to her it was everything. When they met again, they spoke of frivolities, unreservedly without rigidity. It made her realize that she treasured the moments she spent with him, more so than probably any other person thus far.

She had only been in one other relationship, but looking back, Arturia wondered if she ever enjoyed it. She did not know because she could not remember; it was all just a blur of colors and sounds echoing. In the past it might have hurt just thinking about it, but now her feelings were much more ambivalent, but not quite indifferent.

For now, however, she would put all feeling and all emotion aside, because she really just wanted a refreshing, icy, bottle of beer.

The bar carried the same air of vivacious fervor as that one night; this atmosphere of chaos was warm and comforting for Saber. The rose window seemed to smile at her, welcoming her back for a second time. She was glad she came tonight.

Taking a quick glance around the restaurant, she scanned each face of the staff to see if it was Diarmuid. She didn't see him at first glance, but maybe he was just in the back or taking a break. There were a couple familiar faces running around balancing heavy trays, but none were completely recognizable.

Arturia herself would never admit it to herself, and probably did not even realize it to begin with, but deep down, she missed Diarmuid and really wanted to see him again.

Minutes after taking a seat, Archer finally introduced himself to Musashi as Billy the Kid and she immediately began bombarding him with questions about his fighting style and just really going at him. It was funny to the rest of the group, especially for those who hadn't interacted with Musashi yet. Billy typically was a bit shy around most people, but today he went all out in entertaining Musashi's questions, but never lost his humble demeanor in doing so.

"Well Miss Musashi, been here five years or so and I still ain't found no gunslinger that even closely matched those back out West. Tried testing the Sheriff 'round these parts, but they don't take to well'ta my attitude towards 'em."

Musashi laughed loudly and raised her hand quickly, "I'll be you opponent then! Haha!"

Jaguar Man waved over a blue-haired waiter to start off their booze fest with a couple of snacks.

"Hello, hello! Cú-Cú!" She called excitedly to the well-built figure. He was a good-looking man with a distinctive fang slightly protruding from his upper lip. Scarlet red eyes, though not entirely unusual, were a stark contrast to his silky cobalt hair, funneled neatly into a brass ponytail holder. Two silver earrings in the shape of elongated pellets dangled from his ears. He reminded Saber of a heavy metal rocker on a day off. Really specific description, yes, but it held much truth.

"Hey! How you been doing girl! I see you brought some pallies with you today eh?" A strong Irish accent rang in Arturia's mind and snapped her attention to the waiter. Upon looking closer, his face looked really familiar, like really, reaaaaallly familiar, but she couldn't pin down where she had seen him.

Jaguar Man nodded enthusiastically, "Mhm, yes, yes! We have some fresh meat with us today so today we're going to have fuuuunnnn!" She sang the last note and pulled Musashi and Kojirou into a bone-crushing huddle.

"Hey now, you haven't even drunk anything but you're already acting like a tiger!" the waiter chuckled back.

"Don't call me a tiger! Bring us a round of your BEST Irish ale and appetizers or I'll tell Emiyan you were a bad boy today!" She glared at him and waved a finger cautiously.

The Irishman sighed and droned in the most sarcastic, bored tone, "Oh no. Don't tell Emiyan. I beg you. Please forgive me. I have sinned in the name of the Lord." The two friends burst into laughter, giving each other a high-five and fist bump before he left to retrieve the drinks.

"Your friend?" Hassan asked.

"Yup! He's a close friend of the older brother of my tenant. The older brother actually works as a chef here, so I became friends with him here!" Jaguar Man replied.

The group chatted for a while until their waiter returned with well-iced, glass mugs overflowing with earth's amber sins and several incredibly mouth-watering appetizers.

"Alrighty missy, be careful!" he set down the almost full glass with grace, not spilling a single drop.

"Thank you very much." Arturia smiled and thanked him. He stood there for a second, just quietly staring.

"Um, is there something wrong?" she asked, rather confused and lightly touched at her face in case there was a bug or something.

"Nope, but somehow you seem a little familiar. Probably never met you before, but it's just that feeling you know. Uh, Sorry if that was weird." He smiled sheepishly.

"I see. Totally understandable. Please don't worry." She gave a little smile as he went off to tend to a fully intoxicated bar guest haphazardly slung over the counter.

Jaguar Man tapped her shoulder, "You know Cú-Cú too?"

Arturia waved her hands to indicate this was their first encounter and took a long sip of her drink. It was undoubtedly alcohol, but it was creamy and sweet.

This delicate combination eyed her in its unknowing judgement.

"No, he just reminded me of someone else I know."

By the time their party had ended, Arturia had felt really good. Of course, part of this innate warmness was her liver scolding her for indulging, but hey, once in a while was okay right? This time, it was for all the right reasons too.

Today was a good day. She gained two great coworkers, had a smooth day at work, and the welcoming party was a great event to wrap things up. Diarmuid never showed up during the time she was there, but he had his own life to live and so did she, and today, she felt overall that it was a day worth living for.

As she approached the entrance to Morgana's unit, she sensed something was not right. There were several boxes that did not belong to either sister lined up neatly at the door.

Upon unlocking the door, she found an alien that vaguely resembled Morgana and a large black suitcase.

"Morgana, is that you?" Arturia called out quietly to the figure.

"What do you mean by that? Of course, I am!" her alienish sister scoffed.

"Sorry, it's just uhh…" she gestured towards her head which was covered in a thin layer of, well, something.

"It's a beauty mask from Korea made with snail extract. Does wonders for pores, you know." Morgana's thin, bony fingers gently padded the corners of the mask.

"Anyways, now that you're back, I need to tell you that as of tomorrow morning, my boyfriend and his kid are moving in because he wants to start a new life together with me." she said, continuing to touch up the mask.

"Okay?"

"Okay, so I'll need you to move out TONIGHT. I need your bedroom for the kid he's bringing with him. The suitcase over there is for all your stuff. Anything that can't fit we can discuss later, but I need YOU out tonight."

Arturia was startled, this was so out of the blue. "Wait, what the hell?! This is way too short notice! At least give me until tomorrow morning to try and sort something out!" Morgana just wagged her finger and sneered,

"Nope, my darling is coming tomorrow morning, so you are leaving tonight. You not having a place to stay isn't my problem! Go find a hotel or something and live there."

"Morgana, you know I can't afford that."

Her sister just stiffly jerked her arm in the direction of the suitcase, mulling over its worthless existence.

"Again, that's not. My. Problem. My house, my rules! You have thirty minutes. Leave your key by the piano. I'm being nice by not even charging you the full month's rent. You'll get Venmow request tomorrow for your outstanding rent." She strutted back into the master bedroom, slammed the door and locked it from the inside.

A plethora of emotions washed over Arturia; of course, this day was too good to be true. Reality was never a pleasant mistress to dance with. Quietly, she collected her little pile of things, dropped the key off, and rolled her soul and her suitcase into the glacial atmosphere. Outside of the large mansion complex, she realized she felt more clear-minded than ever. Who knew that devastating news could be sobering?

Her hands trembled from the cold and were slowly turning a light peony shade. She scrolled through her contacts to see if there was anyone she could rely on. Maiya was already fully occupied with her son so she did not want to burden her further, and when she called Irisviel, it went straight to voicemail.

Arturia left a brief message, purely because it was unusual for her to be calling this late, explaining her situation but told her to not worry and that it would not affect her work.

She tried a few others, but it seemed everyone had their plates full of reality's damned wiles. Finally, she approached one of the last contacts on her list.

The receiver picked up after about three and a half rings.

"Hello Arturia, how are you?" the tender voice greeted her with the distinctive Irish twang that she loved hearing.

"Hi. Uh…" She paused, her words once again choking her to silence.

"Hello? Arturia, are you okay?" the voice was filled with concern, but it was still so warm. Something fell down in Arturia's heart today, but there was a hand outstretched, wanting to help her piece together the shards, all she had to do was take it.

"I…" She breathed in for a moment.

"I want to see you." Her voice was placid and resolute.

"Where are you?" Diarmuid asked.

"…Outside my sister's apartment complex."

"I'll be there in twenty minutes."

"Okay."

Arturia dragged her suitcase over to the nearby gatekeeper box, where a sleepy man lay, distracted by dreams of better times. It was the only nearby light source, save for a couple flickering lamps across the street in the neighborhood park. She breathed slowly into her reddening palms to help them stay warm, not sure where her gloves were in her bag, but she didn't really have the effort to try and find them.

Arturia wondered if this was a mistake, was she too direct? She most certainly was a disruptor that ended an otherwise peaceful night. Maybe she should just leave and find a cheap motel. She was an adult, she asked for this life, so it was up to her to own up to it.

Being decisive was not one of Arturia's strengths, but it was not her weakness. In the time she spent finally settling on finding her own lodging, and calling Diarmuid to apologize, a mustard yellow city taxi already pulled up just outside the drive. The familiar face she had secretly been yearning for got out of the passenger seat in a panic. His face was twisted with concern as he saw the small figure standing outside, gazing quietly through the crisp air.

"Arturia!" Diarmuid, clad fully in a thick wool trench coat and fluffy maroon scarf came dashing out to greet the young woman.

In that moment there was only two, but then the two became one. Arturia, who, after hearing him call out to her, had abandoned her weak resolve, gave in to temptation. Reaching out, she wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace. This gesture surprised Diarmuid, causing him to stagger backwards as her body connected with his, but without hesitation, Diarmuid returned the gesture. He held her tight, so tight that she maybe could feel his racing heart because he could certainly feel hers.

She pressed her face into the crook of his neck, a soft smell of jasmine and cotton sheets permeated her senses as she breathed in deeply. It felt freeing to simply touch him and hold him. Their bodies fit together perfectly; her hands digging into the folds of his coat, and the delicate sensation of warmth trickled through Arturia's frozen fingers as she pressed her soul against his heart.

Eventually they would have to let each other go, but in this moment, this hour, minute, and second, they threw away the reservations held by their best and worst selves, because, all they wanted was to be in the arms of one another.


	9. Chapter Nine: Living

**Chapter Nine: Living**

Of all the ways Diarmuid thought his weekend would begin, never would he have thought of his current reality.

"Hey! Manager are you listening to me?" a petite and pointy set of fingers snapped loudly in his face, drawing the Irishman's attention back to the chirpy head chef, Beni-enma. Her big, burgundy eyes pierced into his golden orbs before they turned back to the unsliced potatoes in her basket.

"You cannot be slacking off like this! What did I just tell you?" Beni-enma was a highly decorated chef whose kitchens mirrored her accomplishments, so it came as no surprise when she lectured everyone, from the waitstaff to the owners. Diarmuid, of course was no exception.

"What has gotten into you? Usually you are quite chipper, even during morning prep."

"My apologies, Chef." Diarmuid said rather shamefully.

"Just know next time you are lazy; I'll slice off your tongue! Good food is not born from bad preparation! I told you that the tomato shipment was incomplete, so I need you to go out and buy thirty more."

"Understood."

Without looking up from her rapid chopping, Beni-enma shooed Diarmuid from the kitchen.

The air outside was cold, but the sun shone brightly. The trees separating the sidewalk from the main road, now bare from the advent of winter, shivered with the people meandering the concrete jungle's labyrinth. Diarmuid was among the many that weaved in and out of one another's' lives, his path crossing theirs for a brief moment in time.

It was a mystery how there were so many people in the city, but there was only one that captivated him like no other.

Memories of the previous night were still so clear in his mind.

_In the midst of their shivering, transient embrace, Diarmuid felt her arms ease and shoulders fall as she slumped against his frame, wandering off to her sweet dreams with a little smile._

_He carried her and her luggage carefully into the cab and then up three flights of stairs to his apartment to the unused bedroom. Miraculously, she was still fast asleep, and Diarmuid could only wonder about what had happened to her that evening. Rather carefully, he removed her outer jacket so she would not feel uncomfortable or hot under the thick, fluffy comforter. _

_Brushing away her golden strands off her face, Diarmuid sat on the edge of the bed and took a moment to analyze her radiant features. Arturia's face was innocent and delicate in sleep, her expression showing she was dreaming of better things. Her slight, peach-tinted lips were slightly agape, and her long lashes almost dusted the edge of her cheekbones. _

_Arturia Pendragon was so beautiful._

_When her name flashed across his cell phone screen that night, he was ecstatic, but that happiness quickly faded as her calm tone was dotted with a pitch of uncertainty._

_Diarmuid's emotions took over the moment he laid eyes on her that evening. From the start, he admired her tenacity and confidence; she did not need anyone to come and save her from peril, but when he saw her standing outside the gated complex, he remembered that she was merely human, just like him. _

_After Gr__áinne,__ he realized he was not strong enough, nor did he have any right to be a savior to anyone, even if it was just for a night, but at the very least, he wanted to be a friend Arturia could rely on._

Quickly rummaging through a local produce stand's tomato basket until he found thirty ripe, round, ruby red tomatoes that would definitely be Beni-enma approved, he paid for his purchase, and sped back to Volumen.

Just a few more hours after lunch rush and dinner prep, then he would be off for the day. When he woke up this morning, she was still sleeping. So as to not disturb her, Diarmuid left her a short note specifying where he was and to call if she needed anything. It had been a few hours, maybe she had left already, maybe she was still quietly snoring away. Secretly, Diarmuid hoped it was the latter, because they finally met again, even if it was under poor circumstance.

Honestly, if he could, he would have never let her go that night.

He was well aware of his selfish id, but he was in no position to stop her from living her own life. Nonetheless, he placed hope on his best self. Even if it was just a selfish whim, he wanted to talk to her a little, even if it was just to say goodbye.

Feeling a little thirsty, Diarmuid decided after his shift, he'd make a stop at his favorite boba tea stand. He decided he would buy two, just in case a certain someone also wanted to tea up and light up.

When Arturia awoke, it was to the tune of soft sunshine passing through a set of unfamiliar eggshell-white curtains draped over a very unfamiliar view peeking through the silken folds.

"_Hnghh, where…?" _Her head pulsated as she tried to recall the events of the prior night. No good, she really couldn't remember anything aside from that…

Oh God, she did remember something. Something very, very embarrassing. Her face went scarlet as she realized where exactly she was and who exactly she was with last night and why she was with them. Her outer jacket was folded neatly on the edge of her bed and her suitcase near the door.

Examining her own body, she realized she was a greasy ball of oil, tears, sweat, and general nastiness that makes one less than presentable.

She stepped carefully outside of the room and tiptoed to the bathroom. Along the way, she noticed a note left on the dining table.

"_I'll be at Volumen from 8-5 pm. Feel free to help yourself to anything in the apartment. Call me if you need anything. – Dia"_

His handwriting was surprisingly messy, but she thought it to be rather endearing. Also, she thought Dia was a very cute nickname.

Round bubbles of water descended and shattered on Arturia's glistening skin as she began to consider her options. Hotels were expensive, and thus far, she still had not found an apartment within her budget that wouldn't need extensive restoration and repair. She could ask Maiya, if she could stay at her place for a bit, but that was only a temporary fix and did not solve the fundamental problem. Plus, the less she could rely on others, the better it would be on her conscious.

Lives take so long to build, but seconds to fall apart. It was a lesson that Arturia had been taught many times, but never truly seemed to learn. She had always found a way out of her misfortune before, but this time around, she was not so sure

The shower was heavenly, just what Arturia needed. Even if her mind was not refreshed, at least her body was. After changing into a comfortable gray t-shirt and black running shorts, she noticed her phone buzzing; it was Irisviel.

"Hello?" 

"Arturia! Dear! Are you alright?! What happened?! Where are you?" a frantic, high-pitched voice stung Arturia's ears immediately.

"Irisviel calm down! I'm fine. Had a bit of trouble last night, but don't worry."

The other end was uncomfortably silent for a good ten seconds, puzzling the young woman.

"Um, hello?" 

"Well? Will you tell me what happened? I am not convinced that you are okay."

"It's nothing really."

"Tell me, Arturia Pendragon." Irisviel commanded in her "angry mom voice" as she called it.

"I am unable to stay at my sister's place anymore so I'm staying at a friend's right now." she said plainly.

"Honey, oh my god, I am so sorry. I'm currently in Berlin, but I will book a ticket home right now! Don't worry, I will take care of you." Irisviel shouted and a plethora of comical crashing noises ensued on her end.

Arturia groaned, she knew Irisviel cared for her like a second daughter, but often times, she wondered if she really needed to go so far just for her.

"Irisviel, please don't. I really do not need you to go to such lengths."

"Then, at least tell me your address so I can send Leysritt and Sella to bring some food for you. I will not compromise on this any further."

Reluctantly, she gave the address of the apartment complex, purposely avoiding giving the apartment number to protect Diarmuid's privacy in hopes that they'd lose their way. Irisviel's end abruptly cut off and Arturia tossed her phone onto the nearby sofa while sending a prayer up to heaven that she did not bring upon a calamity for an innocent, unaware Diarmuid to be caught up in.

She didn't believe in a God, but hopefully some upper being would answer her wishes as an act of good faith.

Checking her phone's still cracked screen, she realized it was already past five, so Diarmuid would be coming home at any minute. She did not realize she had slept for so long, it made her feel a bit uncomfortable realizing the extent of laziness she possessed. It was good that this happened on her day off though, right?

Not wanting to prolong her lethargy, she decided to pass some time calling up various realty agencies for apartments. She found some pretty good options, though they were still outside of her price range, it was heartening to know she had options.

Just as she finished her call with David, the apartment door clicked open and in walked the merry Irishman carrying two cups with what Arturia recognized as tapioca tea.

When the two laid eyes on one another, they immediately perked up. Arturia leapt off the couch to greet Diarmuid, much like a little puppy. He smelled of a plethora of spice, which, for Arturia, was quite refreshing and she liked it a lot.

"Hi Arturia, glad to see you are awake and well." He responded cheerfully and motioned for Arturia to sit down at the dining table where he placed the drinks. "Care for some bubble tea? I was not sure what you liked so I got earl grey milk tea and peach green tea so you could pick."

Arturia had never drank tapioca tea before, though she always wanted to try, so she chose the earl grey because it was still something, she was familiar with. The milky liquid was sweet and pungent with the aroma of sugar and tea, while the tapioca pearls were soft and chewy, with a slight tinge of honey flavor. She never realized such a simple drink could fathom such harmony with one's senses.

Diarmuid watched her rosy expression grow as she continued sipping her drink. He was happy that she was happy; well, in all honesty, he was happy that she was here, with him.

"Diarmuid, I want to thank you for taking care of me last night and apologize for causing you trouble." Arturia bowed her head slightly.

"If you don't mind me asking, and you don't have to tell me, but did something happen last night?" Diarmuid's eyes, their beauty muddled with concern.

This was a subject Arturia wanted to avoid, because she did not want him to become overly involved, but being that he still provided her with help, an explanation was the least she could offer.

"Nothing really, it's just that my sister, the one I was staying with, her boyfriend and child are moving into her place, so there was no more room for me. It's a great opportunity though, I've been looking for a new- "

Diarmuid stopped her mid-sentence and rubbed his temples, "So you're saying she kicked you out? In the middle of the night?"

"It's a good opportunity for me to become fully independent. I have some options lined up, so I will definitely be out of your hair tonight."

"That…isn't exactly—it's fine. Do any of those options put a roof over your head tonight?"

Arturia went silent. She was used to Irisviel asking questions that she could avoid easily, but for some reason, it became harder when it came to Diarmuid.

"I will find a way to make it work."

The dark-haired man just sighed, "So that's a 'no'." His calm, piercing gaze drilled a hole into Arturia's soul. She shuddered at how vulnerable she felt in that moment.

They sat in silence for a few moments, immersed in one another's' presence before Diarmuid finally spoke up.

"Arturia, stay here. The bedroom you used is always empty, so please stay there for now."

Immediately Arturia shook her head and her palms, "No, please, I have already disturbed you too much. I could not ask that of you." Diarmuid just sighed.

"Look, as your friend, I have every right to be worried about you and I want to help. In the end it is your decision, but please think about everyone who will worry about you." For the first time, Diarmuid's face was free of extraneous emotion, it was solid and serious, just like the words he spoke.

She squirmed and thought long and hard about his offer. In her heart, she really, really wanted to accept, but her pride once again complicated matters a bit.

"I don't want to intrude. This is so much I'm dumping on you, I am so sorry."

"You're not intruding. You are someone precious to me, what is wrong with lending a you a helping hand?" Diarmuid said, completely unfazed and unrealizing of his own words. Arturia's face went from rosy-red to tomato-red, slightly out of embarrassment, but mostly out of genuine happiness from his words.

"I want to pay rent." She said firmly. This was non-negotiable.

"You don't need to."

"I want to."

"Then pay when you can and what you can, how does that sound?"

"Let's negotiate a minimum amount then."

"Absolutely not. Pay what you can, when you can is my best offer. That's all." Diarmuid smirked. He was winning this battle, but Arturia wasn't about to give up.

"At least two tapioca teas on me, every month. That is all."

Diarmuid chuckled a bit stood up, and held out his hand, "Deal." Arturia returned the gesture firmly.

"Well, with that being said, I would like to reintroduce myself. My name is Diarmuid Ua Duibhne of Fianna, I am a twenty-five-year-old good-for-nothing working as a manager at an Irish pub you may or may not know of. I look forward to being your roommate." He winked jokingly, his teardrop mole rising with his smile.

For a second, she was surprised that Diarmuid was two years her senior, but immediately recomposed herself, "My name is Arturia Pendragon of Camelot. I am a twenty-three-year-old good-for-nothing that is somehow employed as a security agent for Chaldea. Likewise, I am ecstatic to be your roommate, Mr. Ua Duibhne." She returned his wink with her own.

Neither person wanted to let go, lost in their own world, staring into each other's eyes, simply entranced by one another's vivacious tenacity and being.

That is, until rather aggressive knocking shattered the intimate tension around them.

Arturia had forgotten about her phone call with Irisviel because she purposely hoped Irisviel or her maids would never find Diarmuid's flat.

Diarmuid began walking over to open the door, when Arturia rushed past him and opened the door a tiny crack. As expected, two white-haired maids carrying a boatload of groceries stood in front of her. Without another word, they pushed through, full force, into the apartment and immediately began shuffling around food items in the kitchen. Arturia was embarrassed, and Diarmuid was baffled by the whole situation and turned towards Arturia for an explanation. She put her hands together and prayed for forgiveness.

"Um…how did you guys find me?" Arturia inquired cautiously as the two women continued packing away piles of fruits and vegetables.

"We knocked on every door in this area until we found you." Sella replied, without a moment of delay. By the time they had finished putting away all the food, the kitchen was packed to the brim with fresh produce and snacks. The maids turned their attention to a still bemused, but rather amused Diarmuid and curtsied elegantly.

"You must be Arturia's acquaintance. On behalf of our Madame, Irisviel von Einzbern, we thank you for taking care of her and she sends her warm regards. Please do not blame Arturia for our intrusion; Madame can be quite persistent in these matters. We must be taking our leave now so please excuse us."

And with that, as quickly as the two barged in, they rushed out without another word.

"Listen, I'm really sor-" Arturia began apologizing again, but Diarmuid stopped her mid-sentence with a grin,

"You have a good friend, don't you?" He glanced at the overflowing cabinets. His kitchen hasn't been this full in ages, but he liked it more this way. Now it felt like an actual home.

"Would you like to take walk? I'd like to show you around the neighborhood, since you'll be living here and all. Oh, you don't have to though! Just an idea." Diarmuid asked his new roommate.

She giggled and nodded, "Sure, why not? I've been meaning to stretch my legs and get a breath of fresh air."

Though the sun was only beginning to set, the world's shining star could only be seen on the glassy reflections of gargantuan towers, but its light illuminated the soft features of the man by her side. He happily detailed some of his favorite haunts, his smooth, calming voice softened Arturia's hard exterior every time she heard it, and put a smile on her face every time. While on their leisurely stroll, Arturia was aware that she was supposed to be admiring her surroundings, which was lovely, but her eyes were always drawn back to Diarmuid. She felt intimacy and energy between her and him she never knew she ever desired until now.

They mutually agreed they were friends, but if Arturia wanted to be truly honest, she loved being tightly held in his embrace. With him by her side, she felt free of her burdens and despair. All her life she was placed on a pedestal she did not deserve or in a hole she could not escape, but she felt that finally, finally, she is treated as an equal.

But they were still friends and now roommates, of course. That alone was enough.

They turned a corner and they noticed a rather long line outside of an attractive and dainty sweets shop adjacent to a blooming flower shop. The storefront was well coordinated with fluorescent, pastel blue lights spelling out "Mahabharata" in flowy cursive. Outside arranging the different floral displays was a fairly pale man with spiky white hair and a rather familiar shock of long silver hair.

"Hey Karna, busy as always huh?"

"Siegfried, is that you?" Arturia and Diarmuid called out to both figures and turned towards each other, surprised. "Oh, you know them?" they asked, simultaneously.

"Karna is one of the owners of this shop. It's one of my favorites, and it's super popular."

"Oh, Siegfried works at Chaldea as a Saber like me. I did not know he worked here as well. The world is so small..."

To Arturia, Siegfried was a great coworker, very reliable and with a strong sense of duty and justice. He was definitely someone she wanted to get to know more.

"Sure is." Diarmuid replied.

Siegfried waved and gestured for them to come and have a chat.

"Hi there Arturia, it's been a while since I've seen you! How are you?" The tall man asked as he moved around an orchid display.

"Siegfried, I'm did not expect to see you here; and, I've been doing well, thank you for asking! I recently moved to this area and my friend and roommate, Diarmuid, is showing me around. Do you work here?" she gestured towards her companion. Diarmuid felt a bit warm inside when she mentioned her being his roommate. It was heartening to hear, but that feeling was for himself alone to indulge in.

"Welcome to the area. And, kind of. I just help out from time to time. Nothing official I guess." Siegfried gestured to the man Diarmuid called out to.

He stepped up to greet Arturia. Her first impression of him was that of elegance. Though he was dressed plainly, his delicate, slender build were highlighted, and fine features were complimented by scarlet tinted makeup that highlighted his vibrant aqua eyes. A single, rather large circular earring dangled lightly over his left shoulder. Had she passed by him on the street, she probably would have mistaken him for a model or celebrity.

"Welcome to the neighborhood. I'm Karna, the co-owner of this place along with my brother. I'm glad to see you're already acquainted with Siegfried."

"Yes, he's a very reliable coworker and incredibly talented at what he does. I am honored to work with him." Arturia said sincerely, but Siegfried just chuckled and humbly denied any praise while Karna patted his arm reassuringly.

"Ah, hold on. We have something we'd like to give you. Come with me Siegfried." Karna tugged his partner into the store. The storefront was an open frame leading into the botanical oasis, so Arturia and Diarmuid had a liberal view of everything inside.

It was apparent, even from a distance, that those two held a special bond untouchable to others. The glances and emotions they shared danced parallel with their feelings. They were a couple colored in roses; every subtlety between the two was conveyed with unspoken affection. Everything, from how Siegfried knew exactly which ribbon Karna wanted to use to the way Karna's finger's softly ran through his partner's messy mane. Even while they talked to Arturia and Diarmuid outside, their auras just naturally just gravitated towards each other without need for extra word or action.

Diarmuid looked to face Arturia but was pleasantly surprised to see she was already turned towards him. Her eyes glittered like gemstones, once again capturing him under her spell. It was unlikely she and him could ever be like Karna and Siegfried, but it felt strange that he could begin to imagine that possibility.

From the beginning, when he first met this beautiful young woman, she had become a much bigger part of his world. With her, he felt his feelings could develop and grow while living in the present but thinking of the future.

From the beginning, she embraced his vulnerabilities, and now, he could finally move on from endless stagnation. He feels he can finally begin living again because she is by his side.

Karna and Siegfried returned with a pink and gold cake box and a small bouquet of white lilies and plopped them in Arturia's arms.

"A little present from your friends at Mahabharata." Karna's friendly expression was incredibly endearing.

"Oh no, I couldn't accept these." Arturia tried to push the presents graciously back in their direction.

Siegfried shook his head and pushed them back towards her, "I'm sorry, we do not accept returns or exchanges. Oh, Diarmuid, there's enough for you too, by the way." He giggled a bit at his own joke. Arturia thanked them again for the gifts and she and Diarmuid then began walking back towards their apartment.

Yes, their apartment.

Lifting up the cake box, Arturia chimed, "First we got a ton of groceries and now we have dessert as well! We will be eating good for quite a while."

Diarmuid laughed, "You really earned it. What do you want for dinner today? Not to brag, but I'm quite the cook so it's my treat."

"Salmon! I saw Leysritt stuff some into your freezer today. Let's see just how good those hands of yours are outside of the bar." Arturia smirked.

"Well, prepare to be astounded, my friend." He replied.


	10. Chapter Ten: Togetherness

**Chapter Ten: Togetherness**

_No matter what time of year it may be, _

_coming home means _

_eating together happily._

Since Arturia moved into Diarmuid's apartment, the days passed idyllically, even though they were packed with chaos. Even though work was tiring, it gave her joy to return home to a warm meal and smile waiting for her. He brought her so much joy, much more than she deserved. Arturia felt that he became the part of her life she no longer could endure without.

Diarmuid's life was turned upside-down when he met Arturia, but that was written-off as a chance meeting of a perfect stranger. Now, said perfect stranger was living with him; a near perfect miracle. To be able to share the food he made and see joy spread through her beautiful, elegant face, there was genuinely nothing else in the world he could wish for.

As time passed, they began to wonder what life without one another had been like, and how they faced solitude for so long. Memories of being alone had begun to fade and replaced with, oh, what was it…

Ah, yes.

Togetherness. A feeling meant to be shared, even if done so unexpectedly. Even in the mundane, there is always something that will spark joy.

Today, there were no more onions, carrots, peas, or any other vegetable left in the fridge for that matter, so Diarmuid and Arturia made a rare trip out together to get groceries. Normally, they were so busy that they did not see each other outside of the flat, so these extra moments together were well-appreciated.

"Hey, this prepacked squash variety is on sale; what do you think?" Arturia held up a clear cellophane bag with colorful squash for Diarmuid to examine.

"If we buy them by the pound, it would be much cheaper even with the discount, plus I know these are fresh because the source farm ships products to arrive today. Of course, if you like those, I won't stop you." He picked three carrots and placed them in a bag.

"No, I was just reminding myself why you're the one who gets groceries not me. It's really helpful to have an insider, if you know what I mean." Arturia chuckled.

"I hardly qualify so do not think of me too highly." Diarmuid inspected the last remaining cabbage head before placing it in their basket.

The duo grabbed a few more miscellaneous items, with Diarmuid gently reminding Arturia that no, they don't need more cookies, and chips, but yes, they do need more chili spice. They were both healthy eaters, but Arturia had a two-dimensional eating habit. She was the kind of person who would eat artichokes with the same fervor as flamin' hot Cheetos. It was a bit surprising to Diarmuid how much she enjoyed eating, but all the more power to him. He loved trying to make new dishes for her just as much as she loved eating them.

"Alrighty, we got tomatoes, squash, carrots, cabbage—" Arturia's eyes rapidly scanned their list, fully engrossed in the task until a certain voice was heard.

"Hey Diarmoody! Yoo-hoo!" A husky voice with a distinct Irish accent called out to her roommate. Her head snapped up from the list, and a strong feeling of déjà vu washed overhear as she realized who it was.

"Berserker and…B-Berserker?" Two tall Irish men with too-similar facial features and identical ruby-red eyes glanced down at her.

"Ah! It's the little miss! I knew I recognized you! It's me, Cú Chulainn from Volumen!" The cheery twin without the facial tattoos smiled wide and pointed to himself. He could tell Arturia's face was twisting with sudden recognition.

"How are there two…what?" Arturia sputtered, very much confused. Diarmuid and Cú chuckled a bit while Berserker stood behind, amused. He still had the same intimidating glare but seeing him in casual clothing made quite the difference.

"Oho…isn't this the girl that—" Cú whispered in Diarmuid's ear before being abruptly shushed and clamped his hand over his mouth.

"Shut up, and even if it was, she's just my roommate. NOTHING. MORE." Diarmuid released his grasp and turned to Arturia who was smiling at the comical situation.

"Have you met them before?" 

"Yes, I have! Both of them actually. It's a long story."

"Wait really? You'll have to tell me about it sometime. The Cú's and I have been great friends since were young." Diarmuid mused.

"Alright, alright. Anyways…Miss uh…" Cú turned his attention back to his friend's new roommate.

"Arturia Pendragon. Nice to meet you, again."

"Yup, pleasure's all mine Miss Arturia. So, back to the topic, you guys want to eat with us tonight?"

"What do you mean?" 

"My brothers and I were planning a hot-pot tonight, but two just canceled and we don't want to waste all of these precious ingredients. So, let's have a gathering at your place, we'll provide food, so all you need is your precious smile and good booze!"

The proposal was actually quite tempting. Arturia glanced hungrily back and forth between the food and Diarmuid, who nudged for her to decide.

"Sure, let's do it."

Diarmuid looked at her in surprise, Cú grinned and patted her shoulder roughly, and Berserker just smirked.

"You sure Arturia? I don't want you to feel pressured."

"Tsk, she made up her mind Dia." Berserker lazily commented.

"No, of course not. Plus, it's always nice to eat with others." She glanced over to Diarmuid, who pondered the thought before nodding.

"Yes, I definitely think so too."

"Well, then it's settled. We'll meet back at your place in an hour while we run back and grab some things." Cú and Berserker trotted away in victory. Arturia and Diarmuid glanced over at each other and laughed.

It was going to be a fun night.

Shining plates of thinly sliced meats, glistening vegetables, mushrooms, and honestly, anything else under the sky that could be deliciously boiled and eaten in a rich, spicy broth sprinkled with whole chili peppers. All of this was sprawled across their little table.

For people who come from countries not famous for their spices, these four had quite an appreciation of spicy things. Either that, or the alcohol was running so heavily that they couldn't taste anything anymore.

All is well, just as long as the neighbors don't come pouncing on them later.

"Wait, wait, wait, so THIS DUDE is the coworker you complained about that night?" Diarmuid pointed to a rather miffed Berserker while trying, and failing hard, at concealing his laughter. Arturia just nodded and clapped her hands together as if to pray for forgiveness, though it came off as rather insincere because she was giggling.

"Yes, and I have many more stories."

Diarmuid, who was still stifling laughter replied, "Jesus, and here I thought your brother was bad enough."

"Fuck off Saber, Dia." Berserker just glared, but everyone else could tell, deep down, that he was pouting.

Arturia threw another couple slices of lamb into the boiling broth, when a sudden wave of realization and audacity washed over her.

"Are you two are both named Cú Chulainn? Sorry, I just remembered your employment profile."

The brothers exchanged knowing looks before the waiter cleared his throat and exhaled.

"You are correct Miss. In fact, all FOUR of us are named Cú Chulainn. Isn't that just splendid?"

The young woman's eyebrows raised in amusement and wonder. Diarmuid caught onto her expression and marveled for a second at how cute she was.

"Oh? Is there a story behind that?"

Cú cackled and took another swig of his beer, slamming the bottle down on the teak table excitedly.

"Nah, our guardians just decided it was too much of a hassle to remember four names for identical quadruplets. We don't mind, and it always gets a funny reaction out of people."

He wrapped his arm around his reluctant brother's broad shoulders, "Little Cú here, or I guess Berserker for you, is actually the baby of the family! He tried to be all tough and all, going into the military, even earning the nickname 'One Man Army' during his time there, but in the end, he's still our baby bro-"

Berserker grabbed his brother's shirt collar and readied for a punch, with Cú remaining unfazed and just giggled as he patted his younger brother's hair. He was released shortly thereafter, but not before hearing "I'll kill you" uttered into his ear.

Arturia, having known Berserker in one way or another, is completely unfazed. Diarmuid, on the other hand, the poor soul, was leaned over on her shoulder, dozing off quietly with flushed, rosy cheeks. After a long shift at work, drinking was a must. He already drank quite a few bottles, but the five shots of Absolut before piled on the exhaustion must have finally taken its toll.

A sleepy drunk, but at its core, a cute drunk.

"Yours truly the second oldest." Cú proclaimed proudly "The first and third sons couldn't make it today, but they couldn't help it, they're celebrities. Our older brother travels around filming his dog training show, and the other is a Lecturer of Architecture at the Clock Tower. He puts the rest of us to shame, but we still love him."

"Wow, so do you guys get mistaken for each other a lot?" Arturia asked, turning off the boil after seeing the ingredient plates swept clean. Her roommate stirred in response to her movement, to which she began stroking and running her fingers through his onyx colored locks softly.

"Yeah, and it's a pain. Too many fucking college girls screeching 'I love you Professor Chulainn!' on the street when you're just trying to fucking walk." Berserker replied.

"And you think that's bad?" Cú asked, completely baffled.

"Medb." Was his brother's only response. Cú immediately understood and nodded in solemn understanding.

"Anyways, enough about us, how's it going between you two? Pretty cozy huh?" He gestured to her and the sleeping Diarmuid, whose hair she was still stroking.

She quickly realized what her hand was doing, and immediately retraced it, but still let her roommate continue napping on her shoulder.

"I don't know what you mean. We're roommates and friends." She added the last part for good measure.

"You sure? Because you should see the looks he gives you." Cú replied casually with a smirk.

Her expression remained relatively reserved, but her glittering emerald orbs shone with joy. "I think that is just what respect and honor looks like."

Berserker laughed sarcastically, "Right because being all googly-eyed is "honorable". Maybe you should try that next time you give your pre-shift 'speech of honor'."

"People need to hear encouraging words."

"On behalf of 'people', I say we're good."

"Hey, be careful Berserker. I can schedule you on double shifts any time." Arturia's eyes narrowed and she motioned with her fingers that she was watching him. He replied by letting his middle-finger do the talking.

"Hey, hey, let's keep office politics out of this. What I'm saying is, I think it's been a very long time since I've seen Dia so relaxed." Cú paused.

"As someone who's been with him for ages, I can tell you've become very important to him, so I hope you feel the same." He quickly checked his phone clock and stood up, realizing the time.

"Ah shit, we have to pick up bro and his dog at the airport early tomorrow. Even though he and the professor are rich as hell, we're all still living together in the same apartment. They're just too stingy for their own good." Cú sighed and began picking up the plates and empty beer bottles. Arturia also moved to help, but Berserker pushed her down gently and motioned towards her sleeping roommate. She silently thanked the two for their help.

Before they left, Berserker and Cú thanked Arturia for having them over and to tell Diarmuid the same. Cú was one foot out the door when he called back quietly

"Miss, thanks for taking care of Dia. He's kind of a mess, but it's nice having someone help him out."

Arturia smiled, "No, it's not any trouble. I would do anything for him."

She didn't realize her wording at the time, but Cú and his brother caught on, and along with her sincerity and honesty, knew their old friend had found someone special. Lover, friend, roommate, or whatever gray and ambiguous space their relationship was hovering in, they could tell, for the first time in ages, Diarmuid was genuinely happy and trusted her.

Diarmuid was still sleepy when Arturia lightly jiggled him awake, because, as comfortable the two were leaning against each other, the table wouldn't wipe itself.

"Diarmuid, drink some water and sleep. I'll take care of clean up. You have an early morning tomorrow." He replied with a sleepy "thank you" and went into the bathroom to wash up.

The apartment was now devoid of all human laughter, but the joyous energy of a great night with friends and food remained in their hearts.

Most of the dishes were already scrubbed clean thanks to the Cú brothers, and Arturia only needed to put them back in the cabinets, sweep the floor, and clean off the dining table.

Putting away the last of the porcelain dishware, she realized there was more than what usually was found in a bachelor pad. Considering her pre-furnished bedroom, there was probably a lot about Diarmuid she did not know.

They've poured their worries out to one another, but there was still an obvious distance they mutually put between each other. It was fine for her, at first. After all, it was how she was with Lancelot, Bedivere, even Guinevere. She thought she was already accustomed to the endless distance between her and others.

Now it was just stifling.

It was cliché, and it made her feel weak, but she knew she wanted to break that wall. Someday she wanted to tell him all about her and for her to learn all about him.

She wanted to know his everything, no…

She wanted to be his everything.

The last towel was folded and Arturia quietly made her way to the bathroom to clean off, no roommate in sight so she just assumed he already went to bed.

Only after washing up did she take a close look at the living room where she saw a muscular figure slumped over the coffee table, face resting on his crossed arms, expressing only peacefulness.

"Why are you out here? You're going to be sore tomorrow." The young woman knelt across from the young man.

"Well…I wanted to wait for you." Diarmuid lazily replied and stretched his arm out, resting his right cheek on the table, his breath crystallizing on the smooth surface.

Arturia's heart warmed even if it was just drunken nonsense.

She too, was beginning to feel the full effects of the alcohol and oily food take hold. Laying her head down on the coffee table, she turned to face him straight-on.

Her feelings for him were taboo, but she had finally begun to understand what they meant to her.

Reaching out, she tangled her fingers with his, only expecting to hold him for a second, but his hand wrapped around hers, grasping tight without letting go. He was still quietly sleeping with the gentle expression she loved, so she relished in her own joy.

A soft and gentle connection known between only the two.

Closing her eyes, Arturia was lulled to sleep, beside Diarmuid, on their small coffee table for two.

The morning was approaching fast, but this moment felt eternal. Their backs and heads might hurt then, they might feel embarrassed, but this was for the two of them alone.

"_Well, even times like this are fine every so often." _Was Arturia's last musings of her lovely night before falling into a wonderful dream.


End file.
